All The Stars Are Out
by theglamourfades
Summary: A year has passed since The Decimation was reversed. Wanda is struggling to cope with her grief, and while not short of friends to offer their help and support, the one person she wants more than anything – even life itself - is lost to her. But some parts of the world have always remained a mystery, except to the few who possess the knowledge and power to bring light to them.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, Endgame happened and it shattered my heart, so there was only one thing to do: fix it with a fic! This story will be very much focused on Wanda and Vision (without any predictions of what may happen in WandaVision, or whatever the TV series ends up being called) but it will also involve most of the wider Avengers family. I can also say that this will be major wish-fulfilment for me (and I hope other ScarletVision fans), so it will end up very fluffy, I promise.**

**The events of Endgame are for the most part intact here (even if there is a lot that can be unpicked...and they will change), so needless to say there are spoilers.  
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* * *

_All The Stars Are Out_

Outside, the birds sang. Oblivious to the hour that was too early. Completely unaware of the mindset of the woman that was on the other side of the wall.

Wanda buried her head beneath the pillow for a little while, hoping to drown out the sweet sounds. They happened at the same damn time every morning, like clockwork. It was to no avail. If anything they chirped even louder, calling to her, leaving only the smallest modicum of silence before breaking into a new melody.

"Okay," she murmured aloud, hands spread to shield her eyes from the light that was seeping into the room, "okay, you win."

The birds chirruped in victory as she dragged herself up, shucking on a hoodie.

Somewhere within her, past the irritability that came from prolonged lack of sleep, she did appreciate their presence and unrelenting efforts to lift her spirits. They were a reminder of the beauty that still existed in the world. Hope emerging from the ruins.

Life, as fragile and volatile as it was, still finding the will to go on.

They were all concepts to her, hanging like pictures encased in glass and frames, things that she could see and perceive the appeal of but nothing that she could touch. Nothing she could scoop up with her hands, absorb into her nerves and fibres.

In the minutes, sometimes hours, of clarity she knew that she was the one enclosed behind something that was far from being so easily breakable.

It had been over a year since the Decimation had been reversed, the universe set right again. Since they'd won, even if the victory seemed hollow underneath it all, too much damage having been caused. They could only paint over the scars, not make them disappear as if they had never been there in the first place. Many things had changed as the world at large learnt to readjust and remember, at the same time as continuing to move in the way it always had done, even when so much had been lost.

For her, nothing had changed. She hadn't expected it to, not with her track record. Loss was a way of life. Death a shadow that followed as closely as her own in blinding sunlight.

Grief was a companion, one whom she knew better than herself in so many respects. Yet it had the capacity to take her by surprise even after such familiarity. Some days she moved with it fluidly, walked with it hand in hand, consoled its coldness in her embrace. Others she stared it down full in the face, determined to show that she was not afraid. That after years and blow after blow that it had wrought upon her she was still on her feet and she would not be taken. She would not fall to her knees in surrender, would fight until her last gasp.

She sat upon the narrow windowsill, legs stretched out, side leaning against the already warm glass. The sun as it rose was high in the sky, foretelling that it would be a very fine day. The sky was painted lilac and soft yellow, the scene untouched save for a couple of the birds who had serenaded her taking flight. She had to admit that the sight was a magnificent one.

The first tear rolled down her cheek effortlessly, almost unnoticed, and she did not bring her sleeve to her face to wipe it away.

To do so would be saying that she wanted to forget, and she never did. After the way he had died, so brutally and needlessly, in such terrible pain that tore at her own soul, she owed it to him to bring him back to life in every moment she was able, when she wasn't paralysed by the sorrow and despair that had sunk into her bones, infinite and always with her, characterising the life she would lead without him.

Perhaps she would have found peace more easily if it had happened the way he had wanted it to, how he had begged and pleaded with her to let his fate come to be. Their awful sacrifice heralded by the universe as something that would never be forgotten. As it was it had crumbled underneath the weight of half the world being obliterated, Vision's name not even one amongst billions as he had been taken in the seconds before.

She had purged most of her anger when she confronted that monster, took her chance whilst it was within grasp and utilised her powers to their full effect, raining terror down upon his head. She remembered him cowering, calling for reinforcement because he was so afraid of her, someone he claimed not to know. It hadn't brought her fulfilment. She had wanted to finish him, tear his head from his shoulders and end his existence in a worse way than he had subjected to Vision. It wasn't right to taint the memory of her love, her angel, with such rage. For the best part she kept it stifled. It was unavoidable though, whenever she considered the injustice that he had suffered, which continued as the world was rebuilt and nobody but her seemed to remember.

_They had watched the sunrise only once, in Madrid. He had practically had to lift her from where she had lay, snug in their bed, to witness the perfectly ordinary but nonetheless astounding miracle of nature. He was always fascinated; she was roused not by the emerging light as it streamed steadily through the window but by the catches in his breathing that he was unable to disguise and the small gasps that fell from his throat. She turned her head to look at him, the pure wonder that bathed his expression lighting a flame within her._

_He would never realise just how beautiful he was, and while half of her lamented in the fact the other held it close within her chest, cherished._

_She tapped at his fingers, watching his smile widen as he brought his gaze away from the horizon and rested it upon her instead. He opened his hand to her touch, letting their fingers knot together._

"_I find I don't have the words to describe how magnificent it is."_

"_That's a good one," she mumbled, leaning her head against his shoulder, still half-asleep. "I'm glad you got me up for this."_

"_You're very welcome," he replied softly. _

_Silence fell into the space between them, as scarce as the gap was, and she was hard-pressed to think of another time when she had felt at such complete peace, even with all of the secrets surrounding them and never staying in one place long enough to make an indelible mark._

"_Wanda, I…"_

_She could feel something stirring within him as her skin was pressed against his own, her mind setting itself into a steady pace and her heart jumping, perhaps hoping too much as she placed her free hand upon his abdomen, his words hanging in the air._

"_Vizh?" she said eventually, unable to stop herself, her eyes pinned upon his handsome face._

"_Forgive me," he uttered in response. She was confused, the feeling fading fast when he pressed his lips to her temple, and she could do nothing other than beam at the affection he showed her, as pure and kind as he was. "Would you like to go back to bed?"_

_She smiled, sighing as he raked his fingers through her hair and blinking in the soft rays of the new morning. _

_"I just want to stay here."_

The memories stung her more each time she recalled them. It almost felt like they belonged to someone else now, that she was a thief who had stolen them to fill the void in her heart.

She already knew how she would spend most of the day, and she felt as though she was entitled to the defeat, after having too many days where she had played at being strong. No doubt Laura and the kids would knock on the door to check in on how she was doing. She promised that she'd go through the guitar with Cooper. Lila needed someone to watch while she practised her aim. Nate just wanted someone to play with. She wouldn't be any fun today, though, and so it was better to hide herself away, lying on her bed and wishing the world would stop.

It was an utterly selfish wish, but one which she returned to in her darker moments, when the agony was too much to bear. She wished that she had never been brought back. Death had already taken her past and the other half of her present, and despite those losses leaving her broken she had felt that she could go on, somehow.

When it took her future too then there was nothing left to live for.

She surprised herself by not lying down again and actually making it out of her room, even if she was on the verge of crying almost the entire day. The kids were a great distraction and Nate was especially receptive, picking up on the fact that she needed extra hugs and clinging to her for minutes at a time. She made it through all the way to halfway through dinner when the tears couldn't be held back any longer. She choked out an apology which Clint shook his head at, finding it too painful to look at her in her grief. Laura spoke softly, suggesting that she should get an early night. Hopefully if she went up earlier than was usual it might mean that she had a better chance of sleeping for more than two hours at a time.

The tears were streaming down her face when her head made it to the pillow, her heart aching with the pain that hurt so much, even as she was becoming accustomed to it.

He was on her mind, as he was at every moment, never far away. When she closed her eyes she could see him before her, on his knees, pleading with the desperate and resigned look in his eyes.

How she regretted that it was her lasting memory of him, burned into the recesses of her brain.

_You deserve more than sadness and shame, my Vision._

Gasping for breath between her sobs and clutching her stomach, she drifted off, moving in and out of dreams.

The good ones didn't last long enough, slipped through her fingers before she had chance to hold on tight. She willed herself to stay in each of the countries she recalled vaguely, grasping onto Vision's hand, but she kept getting pulled away.

Instead it was the living nightmare that kept returning. She knew that it would haunt her until the end of her days, reminding her of her failure and his sacrifice.

How many outcomes did the man who called himself Strange say there were, when those of them who had been lost were residing in the Soul world? Approximately fourteen million. Yet every time she had this terrible dream she never had the power to change the slightest element. The horrible inevitability pressed down upon her, making it harder to breathe with each passing second.

The scarlet streamed from her hands despite her will, her eyes fixed upon the man she loved with all of her heart and soul, ignoring the demon at her back.

_It's alright. It's alright._

She felt the fissures racing their way through the left side of her body, the energy she was firing so intense she was half afraid and half hopeful that it would kill her.

_I love you._

With the strength she had left she formed her mouth to say the words he deserved to hear in his final moments, only getting as far as 'I' before everything turned to yellow around her, the reverberation of the shattered Stone hurting her ears and piercing straight at the centre of her chest, cleaving her in two.

She was collapsed on the ground, everything she had drained from her. A touch upon her hair that would have made her curl in revulsion, if she had had any energy left to be aware of it.

…_but now is no time to mourn. Now…is no time at all._

She felt herself screaming, then hurtling forward upon her toes, sure this time that she could get to him first. She was willing to die if it meant that he was saved. She was happy to.

For the three hundredth and ninety first time she was forced to watch, falling to her knees as the worst thing she could ever imagine happened again, right before her eyes.

She woke with tears blurring her sight, her throat raw and hurting from the effort it took to merely breathe. Sorrow, guilt, helplessness, rage and desolation warred within her, all of the emotions battling to conquer.

She rushed down the stairs and almost didn't make it out of the house before the red burst erratically from her fingertips, shooting her up high into the air before she could bring it under any kind of control. She had kept it all tethered down for long enough; now was not the time for order.

The onslaught of scarlet chaos went on and on, until it claimed all of the atmosphere, a replica of when she had been on the battlefield. She screamed with the force of it, causing fresh sparks to fly from her hands, rising her higher still in the sky. She began to cry which brought forth yet more, and she grew so weak that she believed that it really was going to be the end, that this time she would be the one to put an end to the universe, the energy spilling to its very last drop.

She had no recollection of how she ended up back in her bed in the morning, the birds outside her window choosing to sing a softer song that she was barely able to make out. Perhaps her display had scared them too much.

With tiptoed steps she made her way downstairs and into the kitchen, despite it being little past six. She was more than a little shocked to discover that she wasn't the first up, Clint leaning over the counter. He didn't seem to notice her at first, but his head bobbed towards her before she could make her way round. Her eyes were heavy and anxious, yet he smiled straight at her.

"I just made a pot," he gestured. It was funny; she never had him pinned as a tea-drinker, yet he seemed to go through it quicker than she did. "You want some?"

She nodded, climbing up onto one of the stools that were lined up, usually occupied by the kids while Laura battled to get the family to sit at the table instead.

She took a couple of steady sips, the brew stronger than she usually liked it, the metal of her rings clinking against the cup as her fingers moved restlessly.

"I'm sorry," she began, her voice shaking despite herself, "if I disturbed the kids…"

"Those three will sleep through anything," he quickly replied, a little smile stretching across his lips as he thought of his children. "We always said we were blessed to have heavy sleepers. One of the many traits they inherited from their mother."

She watched as he rubbed a hand over his face, knowing that he was suffering from the same insomnia as she was prone to these days.

"I'm the last person you need to apologise to," he continued, his gaze fatherly in its intensity and concern. "It's good for you to let it out."

She looked sheepish as she met his eyes again. "I don't feel any better for it. In fact, I think I feel worse." Her head was throbbing on both sides and her stomach was sore, as if she had been kicked repeatedly. "The trouble is," she began again, unable to keep the tremble out of her voice, "I don't want to feel better."

It was a horrible and ultimately destructive way to think, she knew. She could see it by the way Clint was looking at her. She was trying so hard not to succumb, retaining her status as an Avenger and even working on a few missions, though they were few and far between. Aside from Clint, Laura and the kids, it was all she had left. She could help others, even if she was unable to help herself. It was what she wanted to pour her energy into, making the world that was still healing from the destruction that had been brought upon it a better place. It was undoubtedly what Vision would have done if their places had been switched.

"I know that's bad," she said, in a regretful whisper.

Clint just shook his head in a gesture of empathy. "I'm in no position to judge. If it wasn't for Laura and the kids, I'd be doing exactly the same."

She smiled weakly, feeling safe and understood in this moment. Nat's death had hit him hard. Her too, coming as another body blow when she was reeling and confused, adjusting to the fact that five years had apparently passed while they'd been trapped. Nat had been so much to her, her mentor and friend, closest confidante after Vision. She'd been the first one she had told about her and Vision. She hadn't got the chance to say goodbye or _thank you_, and it had been beyond unfair that Nat hadn't fought alongside them in the final battle, when she had been the one who rallied them all, Clint had told her, determined to set the world on the right course again.

She knew that Clint was the closest of all to Nat, their bond being a deep and enduring one. Nat had mourned him while he was still living but no longer an Avenger, and she remembered how Nat often wore an arrow necklace, it being one of her most treasured possessions. She had nearly tore apart one of the motels they had stayed at when it had been the four of them, believing it to have gone missing.

"How do you keep going?" she asked him candidly, knowing he wouldn't refuse to answer. Perhaps she could pick up some new coping mechanisms.

"I…I honestly don't know. I take it day by day, I guess. Hour by hour and minute by minute when necessary." She nodded, recognising that impulse only too well. "Doesn't mean that it isn't damn hard. I guess I try and stay focused. Do some shooting. Think about why she did what she did, and not dwell on how I'd give anything if I could go back and do it differently, make the step before she could. I think about what she would want me to do."

It gave her comfort to know that her own way of thinking wasn't out of the ordinary, was common to anyone who was going through the same kind of loss. It was the main touchpoint that stopped her slipping entirely, thinking of what Vision would want for her.

"But some days I'm, like, screw it. I don't want to do anything other than lie on the sofa, make my way through a few beers and wallow." He let out a lengthy sigh, and she wondered whether he was nearing that state, like she had done in not quite the same way the day before.

Grief claimed a person entirely.

"I hope for your sake your mind doesn't go to the kinds of places mine does, kid."

She couldn't lie to him, instead shrugging her shoulders lightly and taking another long sip of tea.

She had started to think that she needed to move out, get her own place or perhaps move in with Sam or Bucky, who both had rooms to spare. She felt like she had leant on Clint and Laura long enough, though they had been nothing but accommodating, certainly in no rush to shoo her out. There was no doubting that she would be forever grateful to them for giving her what they had in the months that she had been at her most vulnerable, and it had been so good to stay in one place and feel grounded.

If she was being honest then she didn't want to curse them by staying any longer, getting too attached.

She talked for a while with Clint about nothing in particular, the small talk helping to ease her mind, though it inevitably kept drifting back to Vision.

Pouring out the remainder of the pot into her cup, Clint covered her hand with his.

"I know one thing; it will get better. No matter how long it takes."

She nodded at him, a lump engulfing her throat, though she had made a promise to herself not to cry today.

"Now, you finish that," he said, moving away from the counter to the sink, "and go and get some rest. I don't want to see you back down here until after noon at the very earliest."

A Hawkeye order was an order, even if he had relinquished the title.

Sitting on the bed she knew she wouldn't get to sleep straight away, so she reached blindly for the drawer at the bedside. Her stomach twisted when she took the book out of it and it took her a good ten minutes before she opened it, the place where she had left off still intact though it had been so long.

Her hands were shaking as she rested them against the pages. _Come on_, she gave herself a pep-talk, _you can do this._

It took another five minutes before she felt settled enough to begin, remembering how hard it was to read in English, but right now she welcomed the challenge.

_He was deep in concentration, head angled forward just a little, the book placed at the perfect distance from which to read most comfortably. She stayed lying on the pillow, gazing up at him with a contented smile upon her face. She couldn't stop herself from thinking how downright sexy he looked, so focused and absorbed entirely in the task. Kind of like an extremely attractive professor, which was apt given his usual choice of attire. However right now he was as naked as she was, with only the thin sheet to cover them._

_As she watched him intently she noticed how every so often his lips would quirk, evidently amused by a certain passage. The unconscious gesture made her heart flutter, and a pulsing start lower down her body._

_After a little while her attention began to wane._

"_Vision," she rasped, lifting herself up to rest half against the headboard and half against him._

_He responded with a "hmmm", not taking his eyes from the pages in front of him, utterly rapt._

_She curled her hand delicately around his wrist, letting her fingers dance slowly and teasingly up his forearm. She could have well chosen to employ a little magic to make her intentions crystal clear but she decided not to, confident in her natural allure._

_He caved when she swept her fingertips over the crease of his elbow, emitting a low murmur of a moan which brought a mischievous smile to her lips._

"_Finally you notice," she practically purred, leaning in to brush her mouth lightly at his neck, which she swore caused him to shiver, "I was beginning to think you found that more interesting than me."_

_He smiled back at her, tilting his head unfortunately out of her reach. "Never." _

_Keeping the book rested in his lap he took hold of her free hand, caressing her fingers with his own before lifting it to his lips and pressing a considered kiss in the centre of her palm. Sparks akin to volts of electricity surged in her veins._

"_I have got to a very thrilling part, however, so I am compelled to continue for a little longer."_

_She huffed in disappointment, really certain that she had won him over. He chuckled at her display, holding the book one-handed while his other stayed holding hers, her head pillowed upon his shoulder._

"_At least read it out to me," she murmured. Even if she had been hoping for a different outcome she was secretly rather thrilled, always adoring when he read to her. She found it such a pain to try and read in English, even if she had got a lot better over the last couple of years. Besides nothing matched hearing his voice pronounce all the finely-crafted words of the language she often found completely puzzling. "I don't want to miss out on all of the fun."_

"_Of course," he replied, with an excited smile which faltered only slightly as he paused for thought. "But you will require a detailed summary of the events that have occurred thus far."_

"_I think I'll pick it up, Vizh. Just begin."_

_She found herself following the story quite easily, swept up in his obvious enthusiasm, and as he read page after page she could see why he had got so hooked. Once he had finished for himself she would have to borrow it and go back to the start, though knowing Vision he would be more than happy to comply and read all he had previously out to her._

_They had better ways in which to spend their precious time together._

_He came to a natural stop in the book, having noticed that she hadn't laughed or gasped at the action in a little while._

"_Wanda," he uttered, "are you tired? We have got through quite a lot, more than I expected."_

_She shook her head, sitting up again. "I'm not tired. I've just got a little distracted."_

"_I thought that might have been the case. Oh, not that I…I wasn't implying…"_

_He was so adorable when he got all flustered and tongue-tied. It made her fall for him harder, as well as making her more than a little aroused._

_She brought her thumb up to his mouth, stopping him before he could say any more, her own curving upwards._

"_I'd really like you to do something else with your lips now, Vizh." _

"_Oh," he answered, his gaze intensifying on her as she stroked her fingers against the curve of his jaw._

_In the next second he had put her onto her back against the soft mattress, making her giggle as she looked up at him and then murmuring in approval as he began to kiss his way from her collarbone to her throat._

"_I think that is a very good idea, Wanda."_

She made her way through at least twenty five pages before she started to yawn and felt her eyes begin to droop. She needed to take advantage of feeling sleepy when it occurred so she folded the top of the page she had finished on neatly before closing the cover.

Before she could put the book back in the drawer she saw that the folded piece of paper had fallen out of the back and onto the bed. If she listened to her head then she would have put it back into its place without hesitation and certainly not have opened it out to read it over again, more than three months after it had been received.

When it arrived at the Barton residence, addressed with her name, she had been surprised and more than a little confused. Who could possibly be writing to her? The shock grew larger when she saw the letter-headed piece of note paper staring her in the face.

Though they had all hoped and in some instances prayed, not one of them had expected that Stark would pull through. After he had made the snap with the makeshift gauntlet, bringing destruction to Thanos and his army, it was almost certain that in doing so he had brought the same fate upon himself. She never expected that he would have been the one to do it, to make the sacrifice that the universe depended upon. She had watched from afar as Pepper, Peter and Rhodey gathered around him, making a circle of protection which could have only been a gesture of love as he neared his end rather than anything more significant. She thought of Vision and how it would have affected him deeply to witness his creator face such a fate. In a way, she was glad he hadn't been there to see it.

Against all the odds, Tony Stark persisted, Doctor Strange registering a very weak pulse. They managed somehow to keep him alive until he got to the hospital, Pepper clinging onto his hand all the while. He spent three months in a coma and another three hospitalised as he recovered enough to be brought home. It was clear that he would never again be Iron Man, perhaps losing a lot more besides his title and Avenger status, but the miracle of his survival made all of the adversity pale into insignificance.

Once again she unfurled the note, taking in a deep breath as if she were reading it for the first time.

_Ms Maximoff –_

_I'm aware that, being the person you despise most in the universe (now that purple bastard is dust), you probably don't even want to read this letter. Please, just give me a chance before you tear it into pieces. (I was thinking of sending you a hologram clip to say all of this in person, but Pepper made the very valid point that you'd probably use those powers of yours to blitz virtual me into oblivion within the first couple of seconds, so I figured the old fashioned way would be better.)_

_Where do I begin without sounding like the biggest cliché on the planet? I guess with the most important thing I have to say: I'm sorry. I truly am sorry for all of the pain and anguish I've caused you in your life. I know I can't say or do enough, and that this has come way too late for it to even really mean anything. I regret that. I should have made amends, or at least tried to, sooner, before it all got out of hand. What I'm saying is, don't think this has come because for some unknown reason something decided to give me the last of my many chances. I wanted to say this before now but…well, you know how messed up it all got. It's all on me. (Maybe ten, fifteen per cent on Rogers. But that's by the by.)_

_Anyway, the next most important thing. We lost Vision. Again, I'm truly sorry. There was a lot more that I could have done. I should have taken better care of him, not tried to think that I knew best. I was stupid (again) and believed I knew all there was to know when I didn't. He was so much more than I ever thought capable. He was evolving, and I think that a good part of that was down to you. I know how attached he was to you, even if I was trying to ignore it. _

_I wish I would have woken up from my stupor. If I would have known what was coming then I could have done something, or at least given it a good shot. Worked on making a replica of the Stone, transfer his consciousness, find a comparable power source…I don't know, maybe it wouldn't have worked. My biggest regret in life will be that I never got to find out whether it was possible. My body is a wreck right now, and my mind isn't much better._

_I'm sorry. _

_I totally understand if you wouldn't want to, but know that my door is always open to you, if you ever want to accept my olive branch. It'd be really good to talk with someone who cherished Vision the way I should have done. (well, not quite the way I should have done…I'm glad he had that, though. Affection. That he showed it to you and you reciprocated. It's the most human thing any of us can experience, and so I believe that, thanks to you, he left this world with his greatest wish fulfilled.)_

_Let me know. _

_Yours sincerely, and with eternal thanks,_

_Tony._

She fixated on the fourth paragraph for the longest time, giving her the tiniest spark of hope. _There might be a way to bring him back. _She didn't pretend to even begin to know what possible, but Stark wasn't the only one who was capable, surely. He had constructed and programmed Vision, but he hadn't been alone in doing so. And then there was Princess Shuri, who was the most technologically and intellectually gifted of all. As far as she was aware Vision's body was still in Wakanda; nobody had informed her differently.

A lot had changed, though, and what was she in respect of three point eight billion people?

Stark's words swam around her head, staying there as she succumbed to her urge to sleep and lose herself for a few hours – at least that was something more achievable to hope for – both the book and note dropping onto the floor, one more noticeable in the thud it made than the other.

* * *

She met with Sam and Bucky on a fortnightly basis to go through training exercises, having no intention of getting complacent. Since before the battle, when they had all been trapped in the Soul universe, she had become fully aware what she was capable of, honing her powers in anticipation of confronting _him_, determined to avenge Vision to the greatest degree possible. Now that she knew exactly how to harness her energy for the ultimate effect she wanted to keep practising so she was ready when the next threat came.

They took it in turns to travel to one another – and sometimes further afield – and it had been time to visit Sam in New York. He'd took them out to a park not too far from where he was living, secure enough to prevent any unnecessary damage being caused to the surrounding neighbourhoods and enclosed enough to afford them privacy. Now, more than ever, the new Avengers attracted attention.

"When you going to take the shield for a spin, _Cap_?" Bucky taunted Sam, who had elected to use his Falcon wings for this particular session.

"Soon," Sam replied, soaring upwards purposely to put some distance between himself and Bucky, "I'm still getting used to it. And I don't want to be careless."

"Sure. Then you'll come up with another excuse, and another..."

"Am I really going to waste my time listening to you boys arguing?" Wanda interjected, the scarlet orbs glowing and starting to grow larger in her hands.

"The lady's got a point," Bucky said, nodding towards her.

"Okay then," Sam touched down, "on my count. Three, two, one."

The trio played off against each other, as well as hitting out against imaginary forces, Bucky and Wanda responding to Sam's commands. Even if he wasn't yet using the shield in practice he was doing a pretty good job in stepping up to the mantle of being Captain America, a monumental task.

The energy was flowing from Wanda, and she built force-fields around both Bucky and Sam before she focused it on the three-mile radius that Sam had set out, manipulating the scarlet into super-powered bursts which she fired one after the other, building up bigger bolts as she levitated higher into the air.

"Wanda," she heard Sam calling to her as she continued to fire, "take it easy. You're going to tire yourself out."

She could almost discern Steve's voice in Sam's words, taking her back in time, before everything fell apart.

"I can do this!" she answered him, using her powers of manipulation to warp the molecules of the atmosphere around them, fighting against threats that existed only in her own mind.

"I know you can," Sam shouted above the noise, "but you don't _have_ to, not right now."

She clenched her jaw as she continued to fight, wanting to give everything she had. She needed the release that using her powers so intensely provided, to feel nothing except complete exhaustion in body and soul.

"Just drop down," Sam's voice came to her again.

She had built so much power that she was having trouble dialling the levels down.

"I can't."

"You can. Break my field and I can help you."

She barely had the energy to turn herself, having used so much of it warping the sky into a crimson void. It took some effort but she did it, shooting bursts down towards the force field that had Sam fenced, being careful not to hit him by accident. Once it was destroyed he shot into the air towards her, bringing her down to the ground. It took a while for her to switch everything off, her eyes still glowing red. Sam counted steadily, helping her to regulate her breathing until, finally, she was calm.

"We should probably call it a night," Bucky suggested, stepping closer to where Wanda and Sam were sitting on the ground. "Subway?"

Sam shook his head. "We're not far, let's walk it off." He looked at Wanda with concern. "You okay to do that?"

She nodded, reaching for the hand that Bucky extended to her. "Yeah, I'm okay."

They got back to Sam's apartment in good time, Bucky ordering some pizzas of which Wanda managed a few small slices. She felt Sam's eyes on her for most of the evening, and decided to give them both a break by retreating to the spare room that was hers for the next couple of days before the film that she hadn't really paid much attention to anyway came to an end.

It had been about twenty minutes until a knock came on the door.

"Hey," Sam uttered, sheepishly poking his head around, "I just wanted to check that you're okay."

"I'm okay," she said from her spot perched on the edge of the bed.

Those two words had become an automatic response for her.

"Because, you know, your eyes were all crazy…and you had me a little freaked."

She laughed weakly at his skittish demeanour. "Really, I'm fine."

It was a strange thing to say, perhaps, but she had been glad that Sam had been amongst their number when it had happened, quicker than any of them could come to terms with. He had looked after her in the Soul universe, more accurately put up with her while she had cried and screamed herself to a similar state of exhaustion, mourning helplessly. He hadn't left her side through the worst of times, of which there had been plenty, until she had eventually adapted to the surreal world they had found themselves in, waiting.

"You don't need to come here just to train, you know," he said, having taken the spot next to her, "if you ever just want to get away from things, hang out…you can call me."

"Doesn't Captain America have other things he needs to be doing, other than just 'hanging out'?" she smiled.

"Hey, don't you get on my back about it as well," he quipped, breaking into a laugh along with her.

She nodded. "I know. And I'm grateful. I'm doing…okay."

He frowned. "You sure about that? I mean, after tonight…"

"I just lost my head for a little bit, that's all. Once I get some sleep I'll be good."

He didn't look entirely convinced, so she put on the best smile that she could manage in the circumstances.

"You should go and see him, while you're here," he said after a few moments. "It might help."

She dropped her gaze to her lap, fiddling with the silver and scarlet stone ring in permanent residence on her left hand. "I don't know…I don't really think it's for me."

"You don't need to take part in the group."

She knew by looking at him that Sam was hopeful that she might change her mind about that aspect, despite his assurances.

"Just go and say hey, show your face. I know that he'd be glad to see you."

There was that, she supposed. She hadn't been great at staying in touch, and it was the ideal opportunity while she was in town.

"Alright," she conceded, smiling a little easier, giving Sam's shoulder a little bump with hers. "And does Cap have anything he wants to pass on to Cap?"

Sam snickered. "Just that the Winter Soldier is being a giant pain in America's ass."

She stood on the other side of the street, watching other people going in to the centre – regulars, she supposed – before plucking up the courage to walk in herself, doubting her decision with every step. There were a few seats taken while other milled around, collected in pairs or threes at the refreshments table. She stayed away once she had grabbed a cup of water and kept her gaze low, hoping not to be recognised - not that the baseball cap ever did such a great job.

She felt like a fraud being there, as if she was taking up a space of someone who needed the support more than she did. The sign on the door had been altered, advocating that all were welcome. No longer was it solely for survivors of the Decimation – only those who had been left – but for anyone who was struggling to adjust, having lost five years of their lives without any choice.

From amid the low hum of chatter, the warm and familiar voice could be heard, greeting the turn-out one by one. Wanda looked up, and when she caught Steve's gaze she knew that it was too late to turn tail. She took a seat near the edge of the circle, making eye contact and politely smiling at the people either side of her, a woman who looked to be in her mid to late fifties and a young man who didn't appear to be older than eighteen. Around the room the age range was wide.

"Welcome, everyone," Steve said from his seat, which was off-centre. "I can see a few new faces here, so I'd like to extend a special welcome to you all, and thank you for your courage."

Wanda felt her face burning, even if the greeting wasn't directed specifically towards her.

Steve went on to explain that there was no expectation to contribute, that anyone could say as much or as little as they wanted. There were no introductions either, something else that she was relieved about.

For most of the session she tuned in and out, feeling bad about not paying full attention to what everyone was saying. She did try, but some of the experiences that were shared were too painful for her to absorb herself in. At one point the woman sitting next to her burst into loud sobs and excused herself. Wanda felt like she should have done something, reached out a consoling hand, but she was running on a delay. Luckily a couple of other members of the group who both seemed to know the woman quite well went to comfort her.

"What I wanted to talk a little bit about today is the matter of time," Steve steered the discussion back on course when things had taken a lull. "I know that it's a sensitive topic, so please feel free to get some air and look after yourself if it's something you're not ready to think about too much yet."

A couple of people left the room, Steve thanking them for their contributions. The crying woman had already departed.

"Time," Steve reiterated gently to those who were left, "it's our biggest enemy as well as being our greatest healer. I don't have to tell any of you that it's hard to get past the first part. Especially now, when we're all living by the clock. Everywhere we look we're being told that time is marching by and we all need to keep up the pace. Well, today I wanted to remind you all that no two people share the same perception of time. We all set our _own_ pace, and it's important to be aware of that. Please don't feel guilty or that you're not progressing enough because you're not where your neighbour is, or if you're not where you were before this happened. Give yourself the time you need. You might not notice it but each day you are moving forward. You're making great steps. Time is on your side, you just need to let it be your friend and not your enemy."

A sense of calm had descended upon the room and as she glanced around she noticed that even those who had appeared sceptical beforehand looked different now, as if they were willing to give the words a chance.

Another couple of people felt ready to share their stories, Steve giving them the floor and only interjecting to offer nods and smiles of encouragement. The clock on the wall told that an hour had passed, though it seemed less than that.

"Okay, this week's 'homework', which is related to the topic of the day. Until we meet again I'd like everyone to take a little time each day entirely for themselves. It can be anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour, though I'd recommend fifteen minutes as the absolute minimum. Go somewhere that makes you feel good and comfortable, whether it's the park, the gym…your own room. And just…do what you need to do, for yourself. I promise you, it's not a selfish thing. It's a vital part of your journey."

Wanda hung back while Steve said goodbye to each person individually, offering handshakes and in the odd case a pat to the shoulder. When the room had emptied he came to where she was standing by the refreshments table, a bright smile on his face.

"It's so good to see you," he said, engulfing her in a hug.

"Likewise," she returned, the word muffled against his shoulder, her hands having unknotted themselves.

He stepped back to give her space, perhaps also to check her over.

"I'm here with Sam and Bucky," she explained, though she realised that he had probably guessed.

"Keeping it all going," he quipped with a smile in his tone.

"Somebody has to."

The words came out harder than she had intended, but before she could move to clarify her meaning he issued her with another reassuring look.

"We couldn't have left things in better hands."

She smiled, feeling like she couldn't say too much yet.

"You're doing really well here. That sounds weird, but…it's a good set-up." _Ugh_, nothing she was saying was making the least bit of sense. Was she really that out of touch? "Everyone seems to be getting something out of it."

"Well, I hope so." Steve rocked back on his heels, hands in the pockets of his khakis. "All I can do is keep turning up, offering a place for people to go to when they need it. I can't know what happens when they walk out of the door, but as long as there's a turn-out, even if it's just one person, then I have to hope that it's making a difference."

It hadn't surprised her too much when she had heard about Steve's new career, through Sam. It was a little funny to think that they had swapped places, technically, but it made sense. Steve had always maintained that being a hero was as much about the small, often unnoticed acts than working at a bigger scale. If anything those little things amounted to more. The public at large might have seen it as a retirement and not a particularly grand one for someone like Captain America, but by the way he held himself it was clear that he considered what he was doing a privilege.

"It is," she affirmed, "I can see it."

He smiled, always making her feel like her opinion mattered. "Can I ask you how you are?"

"I'm getting there," she said, an answer that was more honest than she would give to most people. "I feel like I should be used to it by now, everything I'm feeling, but I'm not."

He nodded in empathy. She couldn't begin to imagine how many people he had lost along the way, in so many different circumstances.

"What you said, about time…I think I need to take that on board. Just give myself a break." She broke his gaze, the awful mix of sorrow and desperation floating up to the surface once more. "I…I know it's not helpful, but I keep thinking, if I could have one more day…then maybe I could handle it better."

She felt a hand upon her shoulder, and she forced herself to smile in gratitude.

"It'd never be enough, though, so I don't know why I keep thinking about it."

All they had wanted was time. She had thought too much about how they should have appreciated what they did have; many other people didn't get quite so much, or ever even get the chance to find their soulmate.

Steve had already apologised to her, though there was nothing that he could have done. Nothing anyone could have done, other than herself if she hadn't been so selfish and had acted sooner. _He was a hero_, he had told her after the battle had been won, when they were all waiting on news of Stark and feeling utterly helpless. _The best kind there is._

Vision would have been so proud to know that Captain Rogers held him in such high regard.

"I know I didn't say anything," she continued, "but it did help. More than I thought it would."

"I'm glad," Steve replied, patting his hand lightly on her back. "You're more than welcome to come back any time. Not just here."

"If you keep giving out these donuts, then I might have to seriously think about it."

He let out a hearty laugh. "Take a couple for the road. I thought people would have gone crazy for the caramel kind, but maybe good old-fashioned plain is better."

She took one each for Sam and Bucky – Sam being more relaxed about what an Avenger's diet consisted of than Steve himself had – and said her goodbyes, making sure he knew that the invitation to visit extended both ways. Clint would benefit from some reminiscence about the good old days, even if he didn't admit to as much.

On her way out she took one of the quote postcards that were pinned to the wall, offering themselves out. It wasn't until she was on the long ride back to the Barton farm that she looked at it properly.

_You are who you have always been – everything that you need._

She wasn't sure that was entirely true, but tomorrow was another day to keep trying.

* * *

The sky looked so different out here, almost as though it had been painted by an artist. Every night there were new sights to be discovered. The kids were so lucky, not only to have parents like Clint and Laura, but to have such an amazing space stretching out around them to call their own, that they could go on exploring forever if they wanted to.

She walked down a little bit further tonight, but close enough to still be in sight of the house. There was nothing except the gentle breeze and the distant sounds of the birds, settled in for the night. It felt a little like she was the only person left in the universe, but it wasn't something that filled her with dread.

She knew that, out here, underneath the cover of the stars, the very opposite was true.

It hadn't been a conscious decision, at least not on the level she was operating on. Something had just clicked while she had been in New York. She still wasn't sure if she would go back to the group, but perhaps she might look into finding something closer, even seeing a therapist one-on-one. Maybe this would be enough. Anyhow, she was doing her homework and it was helping, even if some days were still worse than terrible. Steve would be proud of her for literally and metaphorically getting off her ass.

Craning her head she smiled as she made out the pattern just to the left of her eye line. Anyone else would say that it was mere coincidence, but she knew otherwise.

"Pietro," she uttered aloud, her voice echoing upon the empty air, "Vy vyrishyly z'yavytysya. Yaki pryhody vy maly? Yakyy vohonʹ vy pochaly? Rozkazhy meni pro tse."

It had taken some time until she could do it, after he had gone, but speaking to her twin always brought a smile to her face. She talked in Sokovian, as well as a little of the private language they had used with one another, until she felt content that she had shared all he needed to know. She did try and mask her sorrow, but Pietro being Pietro, he would be feeling what she was, wherever he was in the universe. She apologised for causing him pain by feeling so low and bid him a restful night, with _vsya moya lyubov._

Her throat got tighter as she collected herself, focusing her attention on the vast sky studded with thousands of stars. She had stopped herself from practising what she was going to say too much, knowing it was best to just go with her heart.

"Vizh," she began, her heart hammering against her chest and her temples as she uttered the syllable that meant so much to her. The entire world. "I'm going to talk to you as if you're here, and you can hear me. I don't know if that's silly, but I think you can, somehow. And I think everyone around me would probably say that I've been quiet for too long. I mean, I know I'm driving Clint and Laura crazy because sometimes I can go whole days without saying more than a few sentences. I just feel like it's better to be like that than to fill the space needlessly. And really, they're okay with it. They're great. I just…I don't want to make them worry when they've got enough going on. They don't need another kid to look after."

She smiled wistfully as the truth became clearer in her mind.

"You were the only person I could talk to, and know that I was understood. Because you felt the same way. Maybe not about everything, but about everything that mattered. You knew me better than anyone. Even better than Pietro, although," she lowered her voice to a momentary whisper, "don't tell him I said that."

She imagined that more than once, Pietro and Vision somehow being together, watching out for her. Waiting for her to return, many years in the future.

"Life without you is…not the life I wanted to live. It's strange, and white, and…I don't know how I fit. But I'm trying to figure it out. I'm not short of people wanting to help me out, which is nice. Sam, Bucky, Steve…even Stark, if you can believe that. Maybe he's not as bad as I always thought, or maybe all of this has changed him. No, I know that's not fair. I know that the good has always been in him, he was just better at burying it beneath everything else. He made you, after all, which is all the proof I need."

The tears which were already in her eyes grew hotter, more persistent, though she was determined not to let them fall, not until she had finished.

"I haven't replied to him yet, but I will. I just…I had to talk to you first, because…well, I always want to talk to you, Vizh. And I hate that I can't hear your voice talking back. I hate that I can't see you or feel you holding me. That I'll have to go on never knowing any of that ever again. I haven't talked to you sooner because I wanted to make the most of my last chance. I guess I picked a perfect night for it, or maybe you did it for me. You should see how bright the stars are out here, Vizh, they're like nothing I've ever seen. We never did get to go up amongst them again. I was hoping and dreaming so hard. I know you were too."

She took in a deep breath to steady herself, exhaling it slow.

"I had so many dreams for us. Maybe I was foolish when things were never going to last forever…but I don't regret any of them. They won't come true, and I have to do what I can to live with that. What I can do is do my best so that the dreams that you had can come true. I know that's not possible in every case, but where it is then I'll try my very best. You always believed in me, Vizh, right to the very end. And now that I don't have you with me…well, I'll just have to keep looking up and fly for the both of us."

Though her heart felt like it was finally breaking for good, it did make her feel better to say out loud what had been locked there for so long.

She fixed her gaze on the brightest star amongst them all, both hands placed upon her chest.

"Ty ye vse. And you always will be."

The night was getting colder, though the growing darkness did not bother her. She could not head back to the house until she had said the one thing she needed to, the biggest regret that shadowed all of her days and nights. Speaking it just once would not redeem her – just as speaking to him at all like this would never really be enough - but she had to believe that it would set her on her way, release at least some of the anguish in her heart and turn it into stardust, where he might be able to feel it.

Exhaling another breath she filled her lungs with the dusk air, saying the words as loud as she could in her native tongue, the truest way she could proclaim.

"Ya tebe kohayu."

She always would, forever, until the very same stars and all the rest burned out.

* * *

**A/N: I originally planned for more to happen in this chapter, but the story is already running away with me. I also felt it was important to look a little more in-depth at Wanda's grieving process and give it the focus that Endgame couldn't. Not to mention showing that Vision hasn't been forgotten!**

**Ukrainian (Sokovian) to English translations:**

**_Vy vyrishyly z'yavytysya. Yaki pryhody vy maly? Yakyy vohonʹ vy pochaly? Rozkazhy meni pro tse_ = You decide to appear. What adventures did you have? What fire did you start? Tell me about it**

**_vsya moya lyubov = _all my love**

_**Ty ye vse =** _**You are everything**

_**Ya tebe kohayu = **_**I love you**

**I also learnt that there are two types of love in Ukrainian, which I'm basing Sokovian on. 'Lyubov' is between family (parents/children/siblings) and 'kohayu' is for romantic love.**

**I also couldn't resist a little nod to Elizabeth Olsen's role in _Sorry For Your Loss_. **


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

Wanda examined her reflection, smoothing out invisible creases in the full-length dress she wore. She considered that she appeared dressed for a funeral more than for dinner, albeit with a billionaire. Taking off the black cardigan because it was _too much_, she reached for the crimson-coloured one that lay previously discarded upon the bed, exhaling a small sigh as she put it back on.

She had been grappling with doubt ever since making the call to Stark's number, first being greeted by a small voice which had made her smile. If Stark himself had answered then she may well have given up at the first hurdle.

The thought of him evoked so many complicated emotions, hurt and hatred a part of her was still grasping onto. The first English words she ever read – _Stark Industries – _written upon missiles, legible amongst the endless amount of wreckage that destroyed her home country. He had been her reason to survive, placing herself into the hands of the unknown, back in the time when her grief was characterised entirely by the desire for vengeance. He had kept her prisoner for longer, claiming that it was for her own good as much as for the world at large. He had turned her into a fugitive when they were supposed to be united for a bigger cause.

He had wielded the power of the Stones, six instead of one, not that it made the value of his life any greater.

She caught herself before she tipped over the edge into dangerous territory. Forced her mind to become serene. Took in a deep breath.

As she exhaled she reminded herself that Tony Stark was not her enemy, something that it had taken her a long time to realise, and not without help. She fought back tears thinking of Vision and how he found the good in everyone. It was understandable that he held a special regard for Stark, even when he sought to defy his own loyalty.

She arrived downstairs clutching onto her bag, Clint emerging from the front room with a reassuring smile upon his face.

"Can't you come with me?" she asked him, grasping desperately. "You know him. You'll know what to say. I'm afraid of what I might."

He pretended to consider the prospect for all of three seconds. "It's a little late to call Laura. She's probably just about to arrive at her mom's, if the traffic hasn't held her up."

"Cooper's old enough to look after the others."

Clint shot her a look that was almost as sharp as one of his arrows.

"I'm sure they wouldn't get into too much trouble…"

Within a hopeless minute, and under the weight of Clint's stare, she relented.

"Okay," she sighed, "I know."

"You'll thank me afterwards for not holding your hand. Not that you need it." His gaze softened as he slumped himself against the support of the doorframe. "Remember, he's nothing other than a huge dork underneath it all. He just has the misfortune to have that wrapped up with an unhealthy share of narcissism."

He had the time to place his hand upon her shoulder and utter some further words that she guessed were meant to put her at ease before a knock came on the door, a man in a suit calling himself Happy – even if he looked far from that particular emotion – announcing that the car waited outside whenever she was ready.

She wasn't, but there was nothing else to do.

Being in the limousine made her feel uneasy, especially when it was just her. If it was Pietro he would have had no problem in taking full advantage of the amenities, stretching his legs out upon the plush leather seats and turning on the movie player while breaking into a can of diet soda. Instead she looked out of the window and watched the world outside skim by, bag placed firmly in her lap, answering the few questions that Happy asked as he drove at a speed that was acceptably a little too fast.

He was in her mind more vividly than was usual, smiling and sending comforting thoughts. She turned her right hand upwards, a small smile coming upon her face as a beaming ray of golden sunlight fell upon her side on the empty bit of seat next to her.

_I really wish you were here, Vizh._

Of course, she considered that if he was then she would have less reason to make the visit. It would have taken the world to persuade her away from leaving her bed, and Vision's embrace within it.

When the car pulled up and Happy opened the door for her to emerge she had wondered if he had taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way. The house was pretty much the last thing she expected, looking not dissimilar from the Barton residence, if just a touch bigger and better-groomed. She followed Happy as he opened the door, things looking more modern but still homely inside. He issued her with some basic information about where things were but she was a little too dazed to notice, taking all of the details in and feeling incredibly surreal that she was standing so casually in Tony Stark's home.

Happy had disappeared somewhere when she heard the voice of the man himself, getting closer to where she was, barely a few inches past the now-closed door.

"Pep, it's fine. What did the doc say? That I gotta make use of it, else I'm probably going to end up with deep vein thrombosis. And that's not going to be fun for either of us."

When he stumbled into view, still talking to his wife in another room, Wanda was taken aback by his appearance. She felt bad for doing so but the first thing she noticed was the cane. Being Tony Stark it didn't appear to be an ordinary cane but that seemed to be beside the point. As he turned to face her she was confronted with the true extent of the changes. Though it had been five years he looked as though he had aged triple that, his frame noticeably thinner and his hair, including his trademark goatee, nearly completely grey.

His smile hadn't changed; indeed, it was wider than she had ever recounted it when she had been in his company.

"The guest of honour has arrived. I'm glad you got here okay." He shuffled over to her, as fast as his feet would allow, and she found herself bridging the distance, wanting to do what she could to ease the pain. "Was the ride comfortable? I hope Happy wasn't intrusive."

"It was fine," she answered, reaching out her hand on instinct, "you needn't have gone to the trouble. I could have got a cab."

"Our visitors travel in style," he replied, more casually than the occasion should have dictated, "that much I can still take care of."

He was still holding onto the hand she had offered without thought, neither of them registering it properly until the mutual discomfort began to sink in, though not to as great a degree as she would have expected.

"Can Happy get you a drink?"

He unfurled his grasp slowly, placing his hand back on top of the other settled upon the cane, and she could feel how slick with sweat her palm had become.

"I'm fine, thank you."

A smaller pair of footsteps hammered upon the floor, accompanied by calls of "Daddy, Daddy!"

"Hey there, trouble," Tony turned himself to the little girl with a wildness of dark hair upon her head, which had worked itself loose despite Pepper's attempt to tame it back with a bow. "You come to say hello to our friend? This is Miss Maximoff."

"Call me Wanda," she said with a gentle smile, lowering herself to the little one's eye line. "You must be Morgan."

Morgan promptly disappeared behind her father's legs, peeking her head out to take a curious look at Wanda after a moment.

"Now don't you get all shy," Tony uttered, the affection for his daughter clear in his tone, "Wanda and I go way back. She's still an Avenger, so that makes her much, much cooler than I am."

"But you're an OG, Daddy!" Morgan shrieked, peering up at her father.

Tony chuckled. "You gotta stop picking up on the things Daddy says, kiddo. I mean, it's true and all, but what did I tell you about giving new people a chance? Because you don't know what they can teach you that you don't already know."

Wanda's smile deepened as an idea came to her mind that she hoped would put the little girl at ease.

Curling her fingertips over the outstretched palm of her other hand she was calm and easy as she let the scarlet tendrils sprout, forming into the shape of a butterfly which floated into the air.

"Wooooow," Morgan exclaimed, her eyes brightening, "that's so cool!"

She scurried forth, reaching up to try and catch the bright red butterfly. When that proved to be impossible she placed her small hand into the centre of Wanda's open palm, causing a warm ripple to wash over her closed-off heart.

"Wanda can do lots of cool stuff," Tony remarked from above, "but some of it you can't know about until you're older, okay?"

Morgan nodded eagerly, her gaze transfixed, watching for more scarlet sparks which Wanda was at that moment unable to bring forward, too moved by the faint tickling of Morgan's fingertips against her palm.

"We better make tracks before the food gets cold, and Mommy gets annoyed," Tony announced, breaking the trance that Wanda had fallen into. She stood to her full height, accepting Morgan's hand into her own as the little girl pulled her forward into the open-plan room. "I wasn't sure what you liked, so I ordered a little bit of everything. Don't worry, it won't go to waste."

There stood a huge array of dishes upon the wide table, too many for her to take notice of.

"Um, cheeseburgers would be good."

"Yay!" Morgan exclaimed happily to Wanda's choice. "They're mine and Daddy's favourite. Mommy thinks they're okay, but she likes pasta better."

"They're both good," Wanda smiled down at the little girl.

"Cheeseburgers it is," Tony said, waiting to sit down after Wanda had. "But you gotta keep it to one and a half, kiddo."

"Awww," Morgan frowned.

"Listen to Daddy," Pepper's voice came through to the room seconds before she did, aiming a gentle smile towards Wanda, "else there won't be space for dessert."

Morgan's voice raised yet higher at the prospect.

She made her way through dinner, her appetite increasing as the meal went on, probably thanks to Morgan's presence. After she apologised for not getting in touch sooner she felt herself grow at ease. Pepper was a calming influence, tempering Tony's somewhat over-compensatory chatter. Wanda didn't mind it so much, though.

When the conversation inevitably moved to Vision she didn't find it as difficult as she thought she would beforehand. On the contrary it came as a relief. She didn't need to probe too much as Tony was open when it came to filling in the gaps, the years that she as well as so many others had missed.

On his return from space and during his first recovery the other survivors had informed him of what had happened, although it didn't take much to know that Vision was highly sought due to his possession of the Mind Stone. He had unearthed his old notes, called up Banner to provide the information he didn't have immediate access to. Vision's body had been held in Wakanda and he made plans to go over in the hope of restoring Vision. The first and most significant problem came in the shape of the extensive travel restrictions that had been put in place since the Decimation; borders were tightly controlled and Wakanda had even more barriers than most countries, given that they had lost both their sovereign and princess in the global disaster. Nobody was allowed in or out, not even those with money to spare – bargaining was of little use.

Speaking of Princess Shuri, Tony explained that without knowing the extent to which she had copied Vision's programming and consciousness it was impossible to know whether the plans he had drawn up would be of any help or, as was more likely the case, would overwrite the progress that had been made and cause more trouble than success. She had taken all knowledge with her, leaving his hopes and ambitions desolate before they had a chance to come to fruition.

Even if the outcome had not been what she wanted to hear, it heartened Wanda to know that he had tried. For someone else to care about Vision while she had been gone, to be willing to make the efforts to bring him back…it meant more than she could put into words.

She thought that she really had underestimated his capacity for kindness – or for simply being human – all of these years.

It didn't feel right to let him in on the times they had together, but she was happy to reveal some of the more general details, such as their trips to museums and galleries, recounting the sights and exhibits that had fascinated Vision. He was especially happy to know that Vision had paid special attention to displays of science and technology, spending hours examining structures that she herself had been quite indifferent to.

It was so good to talk about him, without thinking someone was going to cut in the next second and ask if she was alright, that she could stop if it was getting too overwhelming.

"I've been thinking," Tony began once she had exhausted the memories that she was willing to share, "and I wanted to run it by you first, for obvious reasons…but I feel like the time might be right, to honour Vision properly. The last I knew they didn't give him a burial in Wakanda."

Wanda frowned, feeling icy shock slice through her.

"And that's good…what I mean to say is that he belongs here. It was where he came to life, and I'd like to think it's where he should rest. Unless you know any different. You did know him better than anyone else, after all."

She needed time to process what was being suggested, the world falling away around her. She hadn't known about the plans to bring Vision back until not much more than half an hour ago, still not having digested what could have been possible.

Not really believing that hope had been fully extinguished.

"Wanda?" Tony's voice shattered the silence that had engulfed her. At the other end of the table Pepper wore a wistful look of concern.

"Sorry, I…um, I…I hadn't really thought…"

"You don't need to explain," he was quick to reassure. "We'd take care of all the expense, the ceremony. If you want one, that is. The where, why, what; it's entirely in your hands."

The conflicting thoughts warred within her head and heart, one in particular fighting its way to the top with rasping breath. She looked with an intent stare into Stark's eyes. "Isn't there anything…any chance that he might…?"

She couldn't bring herself to say the words, knowing too well that they were about to be dashed.

"There's _nothing_ that you can do?" she asked in a quieter voice, as though that would make the difference.

His expression was solemn as he returned her gaze. Something told her that it was a question he had returned to himself many times. He struggled for the words for a few moments, looking over towards Pepper for strength.

"The Stones are gone, and they took most of me with them," he finally returned, causing Wanda to lower her head, thinking of the almighty sacrifice that he had made. "Without a comparable energy source that might take years, even decades, to discover, I don't know how it would be possible. Not to mention the technological advances in the meantime that might render him...well, you can imagine, I don't need to spell it out for you."

She nodded her head, trying her best to understand as she felt the remainder of her spirit numb.

"The Princess would be the best shot. She was the one working on him while he was still here. I'd think that if she had significant news she would have given it by now."

His voice lowered on the last sentence, almost as if he didn't want to admit that the final hope was lost. Resignation wasn't something he was used to, not even now.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, raising her gaze, "it was selfish of me to ask."

He shook his head. "Not at all. I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

She managed a weak smile. Somewhere in the background she registered Pepper getting up, asking her if she wanted anything. A glass of water was all she could manage, her stomach twisting at the thought of ice cream.

"I tell you, it was a good thing that the banks decided to write off a lot of debts afterwards," he said, coaxing her with a starting smirk. "I got a shock when I checked his card accounts. I mean, I know I had a hand in his creation and everything, but I didn't expect that he'd pick up on my tastes for five-star establishments."

She laughed genuinely as he recounted some of the locations around Europe where Vision had splashed out on the top hotels, all for their rendezvous and in particular for her benefit.

"I told him every time," she replied, with the ring of fond amusement in her remembrance, "that I didn't need the luxury. All I needed was…"

Her tears came expectedly as she thought of Vision, the simple mention of him catching in her throat, guilt overcoming her as she couldn't even acknowledge him properly in that moment.

"Wanda, you're sad."

Morgan's innocent voice came forth from her seat, not seeing her father shaking his head.

"It's okay," she stuttered in reply, bringing her balled fist up to wipe at her eyes.

"That's right," Tony replied, opening his arms to allow Morgan to climb from her own chair into his lap gently, "it's okay to be sad sometimes. And it's especially okay to cry when you're sad."

"But I don't want Wanda to be sad," Morgan replied quite firmly, her clear-eyed gaze going towards Wanda on the other side of the table. "I'll tell you some jokes to make you happy again."

Neither of them could dissuade her, so Wanda sat back in her seat and waited patiently for the little girl to begin.

"What did Iron Man say to Ant-Man?"

"I don't know, what did he say?"

"Stop bugging me!" Morgan exclaimed, raising both arms into the air.

"That's because Captain America's his favourite," Tony stage-whispered into his daughter's ear, tucking an unruly lock of hair back into place before giving her a loving squeeze.

"What day do The Avengers like the most?" Morgan continued, not quite pausing long enough for Wanda to venture a guess. "Thor-sday!"

"Okay, that one's really funny," Wanda laughed, putting on her best smile to appease Morgan.

"Yeah, we've got a comic on our hands here," Tony said as Morgan wriggled, climbing down. Before Pepper came in with the ice cream, the little girl ran around to give Wanda a hug, scrambling up into her lap and throwing small arms around her shoulders.

"Please don't be sad," she said into Wanda's ear, her dark eyes going bigger up close.

"I'll try," Wanda replied with a whisper, the tears threatening to spill and break her promise before she could make it properly.

She excused herself to get some air, the emotions that the evening had brought out in all their forms getting a little too much and making her head begin to hurt.

The night was a beautiful one and although she didn't know the way, her feet carried her to a spot not too far from the built-up house which overlooked a small lake. It was a peaceful place to be, the breeze falling gently – just the remedy she needed at this very moment. It would take a little while to come to terms with everything she had learnt tonight, and although part of her was doubting whether she should have come in the first place most of her knew that it was a good thing. At least, it would be, when she had the time to process. She was sick of doing that, though.

She was about to head back when she saw Pepper standing behind her, both of them a little startled and then letting out small laughs at the encounter.

"I thought I'd come and check on you while those two are occupied," she said, wearing an easy smile. "I hope Morgan wasn't too much."

"Oh, no, not at all. She's great."

Pepper beamed, the perfect picture of a proud and happy mom. It was a role that suited her well.

"It's been good for me to get out. I don't really…well, I've never been much good at being social." It had been another reason for her to hide away, although she suspected that a lot of people hadn't wanted to see her, keen not to feel awkward in her presence. "You have a lovely home. And you've been very welcoming when…well, let's face it, I haven't given a lot of reasons for you to do so."

"Oh, no, Wanda…" She moved closer, standing beside Wanda at the edge of the lake. "The past is a distant place, and it's only worth revisiting the good stops. My mom used to tell me that all the time, because I used to fixate a lot. I mean, I still do from time to time. But since the…" She stopped herself short from saying the name that had been used so much in the media that it had almost become meaningless. "Well, my fixations don't seem all that important anymore."

She smiled at Wanda before they both looked out at the horizon. Pepper was a lot quieter than her husband, which Wanda was grateful for.

"When they came here for the first time, Steve, Natasha and Scott, I was so angry. I couldn't believe they even had the nerve, after Tony said he was done and they just didn't want to listen. I figured that so much had happened, the world had moved on and so had we. Things were great for us, in our little bubble. And then I realised how selfish I was being. If there really was a chance to travel through time…which I still do not get, no matter how many times Tony explains it to me. I always fall asleep before he gets to the important bit."

She paused, leaving Wanda to turn her head.

"And now I'm rambling," Pepper looked back at her with a smile. "But what I wanted to say is, thank God for people like you, and Tony, who look past all of that to be truly selfless and do what is good for the world. For several worlds, which I also had no idea about until all that recently."

Wanda wanted to argue that she wasn't selfless. If she would have destroyed the Stone when Vision had asked her to the first time and not waited until the most bitter of ends, then everything could have been avoided, all of the pain and suffering that had been unleashed upon the world. Vision could have died the way he had wanted, peacefully and knowing nothing except her love.

"I just want you to give yourself more credit than you do. There are so many people who look up to you. Little girls who are going to have you as their role model in life." Pepper broke into another grin. "One of whom is now pleading with her Daddy to tell her everything he knows about the Scarlet Witch."

She returned the smile genuinely, feeling her heart lift with a different kind of hope. She recalled Vision's words, ones he had often been at pains to point out to her and which she should have accepted sooner, so that he could have said so many other things instead.

_You are someone monumentally special, Wanda. In your hands, you hold an incredible gift._

She remembered him caressing and kissing her hands over and over, to emphasise his point, but also to comfort her.

_One day, the world will know what you are capable of._

"Thank you," she answered, to Vision's memory just as much as to Pepper.

She stayed long enough to see Morgan before her bedtime, even if the little girl did protest a little. Her mother was able to soothe her, leaning her towards her father for a kiss. He promised that he'd come straight up for a story once he had said goodbye to Wanda but Morgan nestled into him anyway. Her words were whispered low, Wanda only able to make out the number 3,000.

Pepper wished her well and a safe journey back, with Happy waiting faithfully in the car. Before she took an increasingly sleepy Morgan upstairs she kissed Tony on the cheek, resting there for a moment or two. Wanda felt like she ought to look away from the private gesture but she also found herself transfixed.

"Thanks for stopping by, Maximoff," Tony said, which caused her to smile wryly, "don't be a stranger, hey? Not now that you have a new fan."

"I won't be," she replied, even if she wasn't sure when her next visit might occur.

He nodded, giving her a closed-lipped smile. "I won't do anything without your blessing. It's your call; you just give me the word, whenever."

"Yes. I'll let you know. And thank you, for telling me."

"No worries," he said, waving his hand. "I just wish I would have had better news for you."

It wasn't his fault. Even Tony Stark wasn't able to win all the time.

She didn't get back until gone midnight, and she fell quickly into a deep and largely dreamless sleep, with thoughts upon thoughts needing the space to settle in her mind.

* * *

"So, you never said how it went."

Clint had joined her on the porch, having given Lila enough supervised practice with the bow and arrow. He was slowly learning that he needed to let go and let her get a feel for it on her own, although it was hard for him to heed Laura's words to take a step back. He had thought perhaps she needed a little more coaxing but it was plain to see that rather than fearing the weapon she loved it as much as her father did.

As they watched from their vantage point it was also obvious that she had a natural aptitude.

"It was good," Wanda replied, her gaze upon Lila's artistic pose. "A little weird at first, but good. You should take the kids. Morgan needs a playmate."

Her eyes drifted to Nate, running around at a safe distance from where his sister was firing at the target.

"Maybe," Clint said, leaning his arms up against the porch. She could tell he was antsy, not quite having relinquished his former mantle completely. Or perhaps it was the mention of Tony that made him uneasy. "I don't want to think we'll be in the way."

"It's not as bad as you imagine," she smiled, catching his eye, "he's doing okay."

He took what she said with a quiet nod and bow of his head. There was so much wrapped up there that she couldn't begin to truly fathom, the ending of the original Avengers not having gone the way that any of them could have envisioned. Clint had admitted more than once that he never expected that it would go on forever but then he stopped before he could say anything more. Even if she didn't understand completely Wanda knew the agony he was carrying, silently, like it was his responsibility to do so.

It was the very same kind that was surging through her, coming up from the very depths of her soul.

"There's nothing he can do," she noted again, the recollection battering her with another blow, "for Vision."

"I'm sorry, kid." Clint's voice was heavy, and right then she appreciated the term of endearment, needing more than ever to know she belonged. His arm went around her shoulder, pulling her against his side.

She didn't need to thank him, for giving her a home when she had nowhere else to go, for treating her as though she was part of the family.

For understanding what it was like to lose someone you would have given your life for.

"He did mention something," she said, shoring up her strength. Saying it out loud would give more weight to the idea, bring it a step closer to being real. "About bringing his body back. For a funeral."

She had turned it over and over in her mind, not yet coming to a decision. It seemed like the best thing to do; she wanted to honour him in the way he deserved and give him a place to be at eternal peace. She hadn't settled upon where that place would be but she was picturing herself there, tending to the spot with beautiful flowers and sitting beside him. It needed to be somewhere where he could have the best view of the stars in all of their glory.

Something in her heart was reluctant, clinging onto a thread of hope that was imperceptibly thin.

"What do you think?"

Clint hadn't spoken about the idea, and she wanted to know his opinion, his assurance meaning everything to her in this moment.

Finally, he broke his silence. "It's up to you. You know what he would want."

She hoped that she did but her mind was in such disarray, she couldn't be honestly sure. He wanted her to be happy. To stay with him, and to give her his word.

He hadn't wanted to die, but he wanted her to be the one to kill him.

It was selfish of her to keep him preserved somewhere he barely knew, for the slim chance that her deepest desire might have the possibility of coming true years down the line.

"I was thinking that it could be a memorial for Nat too." Her eyes were full of concern as she said the words, a little uncertain of what he would think. "I'd like that, and I know that Vision would too. We could let them know that we won. We did it. They could rest together."

His gaze was focused on the horizon, following the path of the arrow that Lila had drawn back and held, _held_, until the time was right. It took the space of a second to land in the centre of its target.

Wanda saw his lips quirking the tiniest amount, until shadow cloaked the expression in the next second.

His name was suspended upon her tongue; she didn't want to push the point any more than was necessary.

"I…I don't think I'm ready for that. Not yet, anyway."

It was his choice and she respected it, though she could feel her heart sink within her chest. It would have been easier to face if she hadn't been alone, with all of the attention focused on her. She wanted to do it for Nat, show her eternal gratitude and say goodbye properly.

It wasn't her decision to make.

"We'll be here to support you every step of the way, whatever happens." His hand rested on her shoulder for a couple of minutes before he stepped down from the porch. "Just don't rush into anything. Tony might think he has all the answers, but there are a few of us who know otherwise."

She felt herself frown, watching his back as he moved away, gravitating towards Lila. Vision was gone. She had known it before the dinner with Stark, pretending to herself that there could be a chance for her own selfish need for survival. To give herself a real shot at life something had to be done, and it was already certain that she would never forget him and what he had done for her.

He once told her that she had made him all he had strived to be. She only wished that he could have known how he had made her who she was now, so much better than the person she might have been once, hard and incapable of love. Thanks to him a flame would always burn within her, even if it was only now an ember.

She watched as Clint took up the bow again from Lila, his smile brighter than it had been in over a year as he looked down at his daughter.

Red began to spark from the tips of her fingers, pulsing with greater force as the arrow shot through the air, hitting its bullseye effortlessly.

_Lucky shot_, he said later.

Something made her smile as she suspected differently.

* * *

_She couldn't stop herself from smiling at the perplexed look that had settled upon his face, his irises, while not whirring, portraying his confusion as he attempted to process, gaze fixed firmly upon her._

"_You're not disappointed." _

_Though he stated it as if it were an absolute truth – and to her, it was – there remained a hint of questioning disbelief in his tone, which only made her grin wider._

"_No, I'm not," she replied simply, before adding, "well, I am a little bit, but only for you."_

_He was the one who bought the tickets for the outdoor show, which advertised itself as 'an evening of magic and mystery'. It had not been a knowing reference to her abilities, even if he did apologise needlessly once the connection was made. She doubted very much the display would bear any resemblance to the kind of things she could conjure, else the audience would be in for a great surprise._

_It had been raining since before the sun had risen, not that it could be seen all that well behind the heavy grey clouds that covered the sky. They kept their hopes up that the weather might turn but, if anything, it got worse as the day lengthened, and as such the show was cancelled. At least the price of the tickets would be refunded, a promise from the vendor, but that had not given Vision much consolation._

_In the last few months he had become incredibly adept at identifying the complexity of human emotion, no longer needing to rely upon her for explicit direction or explanation. By now it was more about reassurance, and indeed nine times out of ten he was better able to quantify than she was. He felt everything to such a fine degree._

_He came closer to her, one hand covering hers and placing the other delicately upon her cheek._

"_You're happy."_

_She watched as his expression shifted from confoundment to show awe instead, and as she continued to stare up at him his eyes shone towards her, reflecting the pure affection he felt for her._

_A smile shaped his lips, so clear and incredibly beautiful._

_Feelings were not always easy to understand or explain. Most could be reduced down to a basic, primal form which he could connect with, disappointment being one of them. Anger, frustration, amusement and fear were similar bedfellows. Out of them all, happiness was the hardest to define. People could be happy for reasons that were sometimes inexcusable, such as when another person met misfortune. Humans could be awful sometimes; some of them a lot of the time. A child's happiness was a much better point of relation, and she found that she wanted to keep that definition close, feeling that it best fitted Vision. Films and fairytales were other good examples. It was a shame that he couldn't eat or drink as she thought that nothing summed up happiness better than a warm, freshly-baked piece of bread or a cup of hot chocolate dusted with cinnamon and sugar._

_Really her inadequacy came from the fact that she was the last person who could accurately say what it was to be happy. For her the emotion was long-forgotten, lost and broken into pieces so small that she couldn't hold them in her hands for longer than a few seconds. For such a long time she had thought herself undeserving of happiness, so when he first asked her what it felt like she was conflicted. She couldn't lie, not when the mere concept of lying was foreign to him and she was unwilling to be his teacher in that respect._

_She still wasn't sure whether she was worthy, but at least now there was no way that she could possibly deny the feeling._

_She shifted her hands, taking hold of his, her gaze not leaving his face. "You know why, don't you?"_

"_I believe so," he answered her promptly, "though I confess I cannot fully comprehend the reasoning."_

_She wanted to shake her head but instead she got onto her tiptoes, smiling at the way he steadied her with hands upon her waist as she met her lips with his softly._

"_Drop the disguise, Vizh," she whispered against his mouth, even as she peppered kisses upon the illusory skin of his jaw. "There won't be any need for it tonight."_

_They spent the hours as evening moved to night curled up in bed, watching films until she started to fall asleep, Vision speaking to her softly and her murmuring in reply, reluctant to let him move so far as to switch the television and light off. While he didn't sleep as such he had found a way of imitating the action and did so with such accuracy that if anyone else had observed, and if he did so whilst inhabiting his disguise, they would be none the wiser._

_She woke in the early hours, watching him from the pillow and smiling. The chink of moonlight that came into the room between the little gap in the curtains made his burgundy skin shimmer slightly and the vibranium appear even more striking. He looked so peaceful, and though a big part of her wanted to rouse him, pained by the lack of time they were always afforded together, she couldn't bring herself to do so._

_Instead she brushed her hand like a feather against the side of his face, marvelling at him in all of his perfection. Her heart responded to the sweep of her fingers, leaping higher the longer she touched and stared, finding herself mesmerised._

_He was the first one to see her and, rather than run in fear or question or condemn, cherish all that he found. _

"_Miy Vision," she bent to whisper to him, holding her hair back so it didn't tickle against and disturb him, "moye shchastya tse ty."_

_When he was awake again she would try and explain, but she knew that she never could accurately explain to him all that he meant to her._

_She could only hope that he would feel, in the same way that she always did with him._

* * *

Sam and Bucky had come to the farm for the latest training session, along with Scott, who had decided that the time was right for him to get back to being Ant-Man. Though she hadn't joined in today Scott told them that Hope was willing to volunteer herself for future missions alongside her work with her reunited parents. They were compiling quite the formidable team for the new incarnation of The Avengers.

Wanda took a while to get into things, going through the motions for a good half-hour. Her sleep patterns were messed up to a huge degree, not helped by the dreams she had started having recently, which were about her having to single-handedly save the world against a number of almost undefeatable villains. Vision didn't always figure in them, to her sorrow, and whenever he did she could never get to him in time.

Her mind was obviously set on torturing her for the rest of time, which meant that she needed to work her body harder.

She paired with Sam against Bucky and Scott, and once she hit her stride it was hard to stop. Scott shrank down to a speck, his launching himself from Bucky's vibranium arm going unnoticed until he landed upon Sam, jumping from his left shoulder to his right ear. Wanda focused her energy in finer strands than she was used to, having trained herself to go bigger. It was good practice to get herself into another headspace, and she smiled despite the effort when a glowing scarlet ball enclosed Scott's miniscule form, bouncing it around the air.

Her attention was so intent that she didn't hear Clint's knocking against the barn door. Only when he raised his voice did it break, sending the bright red burst zooming upwards and crashing to the ground just as fast, Scott reforming to normal size with a groan of pain.

"Sorry for interrupting," Clint began, his eyes widened at the waves of crimson energy that continued to pulsate, mirrored in Wanda's eyes. "Wanda, there's a visitor here for you."

"Give us a half-hour to finish up," she responded, annoyed that she had been stopped just as she was getting to the peak of unleashing her powers completely. The electricity was thrumming in her veins, overwhelming her in the way she wanted, giving her the destruction she craved.

"Uh, it's kinda important, so…"

Clint's stance was rather helpless, his gaze going to the others to seek their co-operation. He didn't need to try so hard; she relented quickly, lowering her arms and restoring calm, the blazing scarlet light burning to nothing within seconds.

As they made it back to the house in a line, Wanda at the head, she could hear Clint murmuring to Sam.

"Does she always go that hard?"

Sam let out a chuckle in response. "You saw what she did to Thanos. There's no holding the Scarlet Witch back when she's pissed as hell."

She didn't know who to expect, other than Pepper on behalf of Tony, politely enquiring about what taking her so damn long in making the call to bring Vision's body back for the final goodbye. Instead her heart stopped for a couple of seconds when they were met by the figure clad head to toe in black, arms crossed at his chest in the distinctive greeting.

King T'Challa smiled towards her, stepping forward to offer his hand in a gesture they were all more used to.

"Your Highness," Scott uttered in a low, reverent tone, bending to bow towards T'Challa, who bit back the look of amusement that was about to break on his face.

"Yeah, you don't do that," Bucky placed his hand upon Scott's shoulder, urging him up before going forward to throw his arms around T'Challa. It was unlike Bucky to be so familiar, but Wanda supposed that it wasn't so strange, given that he knew the royal better than the rest of them. "How are things?"

"They are getting there," T'Challa replied, his voice calm and composed, "we are learning to thrive now, rather than simply survive. Wakanda's strength lies in our endurance. And you?"

He looked past Bucky in their close proximity, his gaze falling squarely upon Wanda.

"Pretty much the same," Sam came to the rescue, "there's a lot we have to learn, but some of us are faster than others, so it evens out."

T'Challa smiled at Sam's answer, his head bowing in a gesture of understanding.

"Well, I should leave you guys…" Clint's voice echoed in the background, causing Wanda to turn to look at him, "…to do whatever you have to do. Let me know if you need anything."

She nodded towards him, knowing that the offer was specifically for her benefit.

"Miss Maximoff." T'Challa's address made her bristle slightly, though he wasn't to know.

"Wanda, please."

He nodded his head, smiling again and putting her at ease. "Wanda. I hope you don't mind my unexpected arrival."

"No," she uttered, still in a daze. Despite her attempt to rein it back a part of her had already leapt up in what she was sure was misguided hope at the royal's presence. She didn't know how many more times she could fall without shattering irreparably.

She wasn't completely sure that it wasn't the fate she longed with every fibre for.

"Good," he replied smoothly, "for once my sister was adamant that technology would not do."

That sliver of optimism grew to absorb her whole being in the space of a second.

He took another step forward, refraining from reaching out but fixing his eyes upon her. "My sister should really be the one to inform you fully, which is why I have transport waiting. It is not quite up to the standards of your Quinjet but it offers enough comfort for the journey."

She found it within herself to ask, though it felt like her body was completely paralysed.

"You're saying…this is about Vision?" Her heart hurt to utter his name when she had gone so far down the road of resignation. "And he…"

T'Challa nodded. "He is not completely restored. Shuri was keen that I let you know of that fact."

Wanda lowered her head. "I understand." The spark within her began to waver.

"But she assures me that it is close, which is why she did not want to delay your visit. If you are able to come with me."

She looked up again, her eyes wide and eager, her emotions struggling to keep up.

"Yes. Yes, of course."

"We'll go with you," Sam stepped forth from behind her, and Wanda felt grateful. "Bucky and me. Just to make sure…" He looked towards T'Challa, realising he might have spoken too soon, "if that's okay?"

"We would be delighted to welcome more than one friend of Wakanda," came the royal's easy response.

While Scott made his apologies, explaining that he had to get back to Cassie, Wanda went to tell Clint the news, her hands trembling as she did so.

"Don't be in any hurry to get back, kid. Everything will be here for you, we're not going anywhere." He gave her a smile before leaning forward to press a light kiss to the crown of her head. "Safe travels." He paused for a moment before adding, in a quiet voice, "and good luck."

The four of them boarded the jet that T'Challa had brought quickly, Wanda reminding herself to breathe as she got herself settled, half-expecting that she would wake in the next moment.

She had never dared to dream that this outcome could be possible.

"I was told to give this to you."

Wanda looked up to see T'Challa standing in front of her, handing a small device consisting of a singular button over into her palm. Before she could question he had returned to the compartment towards the front of the jet, where Bucky was also seated. Sam had taken another pod in the same style as the one she occupied to himself, giving her the space she needed but being close enough at hand if she preferred the company at any moment.

She turned the device over, holding it between her finger and thumb. If it hadn't come from the Princess then there was only one other person she could think of. She hesitated for a few moments before lowering her thumb, activating the button with a firm press.

Tony Stark – or rather, a hologram version of him – appeared, seating himself across from her. How he could have known the dimensions and specific outlay of the jet was baffling, but not something she was immediately concerned with.

"I'm just gonna stay here. Keep my distance. Though I think I'm safe from those powers of yours."

Her lips curved into a crooked smirk. _You'd better hope so, Stark._

In her lap she curled her fingers, scarlet crackling from the tips.

"Who knows, they might actually do me good. Maybe we should road-test that theory when you get back. Okay, not what I'm here to say."

His hands knotted together as he dropped his gaze to the floor momentarily. She wasn't entirely sure but she felt like Pepper was calling to him from another room, telling him to get to what mattered.

"I told you one last lie, and it was a pretty significant one. I can only say that I'm sorry and I hope that you can forgive me for it, after the bridges we started on building. I feel guilty as hell for doing it. Everything else I said was true, about me trying to go over there, doing what I could to get things started again. I felt a responsibility…no, more than that." He paused for a painful moment. "Vision looked to me for answers and I was always too busy with other things. Things that didn't matter. Looking back I don't think I was ready, I couldn't comprehend the magnitude of it all. Not to mention that the media were looking for any opportunity to label me as the mad scientist, and well, I suppose I thought that Vision provided the perfect ammunition there. I neglected him because of my own self-obsession, and…yeah. You've heard the story before, and it's not about me anymore. That all stopped years ago."

She was half-tempted to press the button again, not in the right frame of mind for his explanation. She stopped herself from doing so, feeling she owed it to him to hear him out.

"If you need someone to blame, then you're looking at him. I'll gladly take the hit. I told the Princess not to contact you, not until things were as secure as they could be. I know what it's like to be given hope too soon and then feel how much it kills to have it ripped away. It had to be right, the pieces falling into place, the stars aligning. God, it feels good to get it out there. I kinda wish I could see your face right now, I'm hoping you've moved past the rage and the glowy eyes, even if they are pretty cool. She got in touch when I was out of it to let me know what was happening. It was still early days back then but things were moving in the right direction…I really should leave the explanations to her. You know, there really isn't a better pair of hands that he could have been in. Mine included. I did pass on all I had to offer but there's no way I can take the credit, not after everything."

She still found herself grateful to him for caring enough in the days when the world had too many other problems to contend with.

"So, again, I'm sorry. I don't know what I would have done if you would have called to say you wanted the funeral to go ahead. Played for a little more time, I guess. Luckily the Princess is a whizz, and when it had been over a month and you hadn't sent word I figured it'd all be fine. No more secrets, you have my word. I hope you do forgive me because I've got a kid here driving me and her mom crazy asking every five minutes when she's going to see you again. And to appease her I might have said that you'd bring her big brother back with you too when you do come. I mean, God, that'd be perfect. I've got everything crossed for you. But uh, what am I even tripping for? Everything's gonna work out exactly the way it's supposed to."

He stood up, smiling towards her.

"Godspeed, Maximoff. We'll see you both soon."

The hologram cut out abruptly after he uttered his last word, leaving her staring at the space he had vacated, still taking her steady breaths in and out, in and out.

Nothing about this made any sense, and somehow it all did.

The King's Guard and some hundred of the Dora Milaje were lined up as they touched down, bowing to T'Challa as he led them into the palace. Wakanda looked as breathtaking as it always had, the evidence of the magnitude of loss the country had suffered not at all visible to the naked eye.

Sam and Bucky were either side of her, backing her up as they made their way to Princess Shuri's quarters. Wanda wanted to tell them that while she was grateful she didn't need their protection, not when she was getting closer to the only thing she had wanted since she was brought back to this existence that was insistent on being relentlessly cruel to her.

The three of them waited for a few moments, feeling rather awkward until the Princess emerged, descending the staircase that led from her lab to meet them.

She greeted them all with enthusiasm, but her focus was directed towards Wanda, outstretching her hands to take Wanda's in a gesture that wasn't in the slightest uncomfortable or out of place.

"Uh, we'll make ourselves scarce," Sam announced, nodding towards Shuri. "Buck, you can take me on the guided tour. If you need anything…"

"I'll be fine," Wanda assured, wearing the best smile she could manage.

She felt a little more relaxed when she was left alone in the presence of Shuri, though she didn't know where to begin, so many questions whirling in her head.

"I'm sorry that it has taken so long," Shuri said, her voice laden with regret, "I don't know what my brother has told you, but it has not been easy to rebuild from the ground."

"You don't need to explain. I got Stark's message, so I know that it wasn't down to you."

"Ah yes, there was that too. It was a good thing really, though I did feel guilty that you didn't know anything. It inspired me to work longer and faster." She smiled at Wanda, open and genuine. Wanda did not hold anything against her; it was impossible to do so in the circumstances. "I was also lucky enough to have some help at hand."

Shuri took them up the stairs into her lab, showing that she wasn't alone. From a desk that appeared tiny next to his huge frame, Bruce Banner – or perhaps she should call him Hulk Banner now – stood, moving towards her.

"Wanda," he said, "it's good to see you. We weren't sure whether you could make it so soon."

"The world would have to be breaking at the seams to stop me."

Shuri and Bruce exchanged a smile between themselves. Wanda found herself looking around the vast lab with all of its lights and holographic screens, hopeful to find some trace of Vision on display. As it was, there was nothing immediate.

"We won't keep you wondering any longer," Bruce uttered, as though her very thoughts had been projected onto one of the screens in front of them. "Like Shuri said, it's been a long process. Longer than we hoped. At times we didn't think it was possible, no matter what we came up with…"

"Come on, Bruce," Shuri interjected, her tone lively, "we're not here to be negative."

"You're right. Force of habit, I'm sorry." He schooled his expression into one which better reflected the outlook of the situation. "Did anyone offer you something to drink, to eat? It's quite the journey."

"I'm fine," Wanda replied, getting increasingly impatient though she tried not to make it too obvious. She twisted her rings around her fingers, back and forth. "I just…I'd rather just know, if that's okay."

"Of course it is," Shuri replied, deciding that it was best she take things forward. "I would have rather we brought you here sooner, but the time wasn't right. Now, as far as we're both concerned, it is."

Shuri took another look towards Bruce, and then turned to face Wanda straight, a bright smile overtaking her features.

Wanda felt dizzy, having breathed in and out too much in a short space of time, her stomach clenching and her heart feeling as though it was going to burst from her chest.

"After a lot of work discarded, we're confident we've found it," Shuri continued, taking a step nearer to Wanda and grinning yet wider, "the formula we need to bring Vision back to life."

* * *

**A/N: Ukrainian (Sokovian) to English:**

**_Miy Vision, __moye shchastya tse ty = _My Vision, my happiness is you**

**I maintain that Shuri is our saviour.**

**Also, Morgan is adorable (she was one of the best parts of Endgame). I think I've made her a little advanced for her age, whoops, but then again she is Tony Stark's daughter.**


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

She hadn't allowed herself to believe it could be true. Not with T'Challa's unexpected visit, the journey to Wakanda or Tony's message. She supposed that she had built an invisible force-field, absent of the normal vivid scarlet hue, in order to shield herself. _How much more could one person take? _Even someone like her, whose powers were beginning to be heralded at large after her part in the epic battle.

She stared at the Princess for too long, all of the lights and signals in the lab blurring to blankness as she processed what she had been told. Crimson emerging from the depths of darkness, flashes of brilliant blue meeting her own stunned gaze. Minds connecting once more, the theory behind it all inexplicable.

_Vision._

Her hands reached out to touch what wasn't there, not yet, her heart hurting in its longing and newly emerged hope. She had needed him from the very moment he had been taken from her and from the world.

She was getting too far ahead of herself, running too fast.

Bruce must have noticed that her legs had been close to buckling from beneath her and guided her to sit down, fetching her a glass of water despite her previous protests. She didn't recall drinking from it, too focused upon Shuri's explanations. She found herself hungry for knowledge, even if she couldn't fully comprehend all of the complexities.

Shuri explained how she had completed the task of detaching the elements of Vision's consciousness from the Mind Stone before coming under attack and had the foresight to back up her work, ensuring that he was kept contained. Thankfully, the palace had remained intact in the wake of destruction. Once her diplomatic duties had been carried out to the best of her ability in light of the reversal she was able to return to the work that inspired and fulfilled her. She could never leave a job half-finished.

In the space of a few days she had created a replica of the Stone, contained within it all of the neurons that would hold Vision, weaving him back together. As Shuri held it to the light, translucent in its colourless quality, Wanda could see how intricate and beautiful it was inside.

She also knew that, given the fact that the Princess had it between her fingers, the process was as yet incomplete.

"I had foolishly thought that the advancements of our technology would be enough on their own," Shuri went on to expand, "but it was not the case. Vision is incredibly complex. Looking at the pathways of the neurons that comprise his consciousness is the closest I've come to opening up and looking inside the brain of a human. The alignments are incredibly similar. Though their methods were more _traditional,_ I should have given Doctor Banner and Mr Stark more credit than my initial dismissal."

From the corner of her eye, Wanda noticed Bruce bowing his head humbly.

"Bruce was right in his theory," Shuri reverted to the less formal address, "Vision and the Stone are separate entities. But it became clear that the energy within the Stone was what gave Vision life. Like blood in his veins, currents in his brain. Animating everything, causing him to exist."

"Everything we did in using the Stones to reverse what Thanos did means we can't go back again. There's been too much disturbance in the fabric of time as it is," Bruce interjected, stepping forward into Wanda's eye line again. "And even if we did have the Mind Stone, temporarily, we couldn't clone it without a whole lot of other wormholes opening up."

"So we had to come up with other possibilities," Shuri picked up the thread again. "Technology plays its part, but what we really needed to complete everything was an energy force to replicate what the Stone provided. I made several replicas of this," she indicated to the gem she had fashioned, held between finger and thumb, "and uploaded copies of Vision's consciousness into each, only enough that we wouldn't risk corrupting what was inside. The work of creating formulas and sourcing compounds I left to Bruce."

"Along with the help of others," he was quick to add. "We were fortunate enough to have Tony's notes from the first time, although of course we didn't actually have to _create_ the Mind Stone. Luckily I do know a few other geniuses, Helen Cho being one of them. And she was only too keen to help when she knew what I was trying to achieve."

The detail Bruce supplied her with made her brain hurt more than slightly. The short of it was that each combination that was devised failed in some way or another when it was introduced to one of the versions of Vision within each replica gem. A couple worked better than others but not enough to restore Vision completely to the way he had been, an element of his personality being missing in both cases.

"We were ready to throw in the towel, admit that it was just a step too far. And then it clicked. Like it had been staring us in the face all along and we were too bogged down in the minutiae to notice."

As Bruce spoke, Wanda sensed there was something more to the light in Shuri's smiling eyes, resting upon her.

"If something has the power to destroy it stands to reason that it also has the power to create. To improve upon and be better than the thing it had defeated. Ultron and Vision are the best examples of that."

Bruce locked his incredibly large hands together while Shuri continued to smile with the knowledge both of them possessed, which was transferring to Wanda, at least if she had understood it correctly.

It seared like ice and fire meeting within in her veins, simultaneously thrilling and indescribably terrifying.

"For this to work, we have to use the energy with the closest molecular structure to the Stone," Bruce said, as though the answer was so simple all along.

To make it as clear as possible, Shuri added, "and that is why we needed to contact you without any further delay. Not just to let you know of our work, but because you are the last part of it. The key to its success."

Wanda got to her feet, unable to sit still any longer, both body and mind working overtime to take in everything she had been told. The mystery unveiled to her after so long spent wondering, barely even beginning to imagine how it might come to be.

"But I…I don't know if I…" her words faltered as they travelled through the synapses of her brain down to her tongue. In her state of confusion she noticed Shuri's face falling and Bruce's expression shifting too; this was not the reaction they had expected. "Isn't there another way, something else you can do?"

"We've tried every possibility," Bruce answered, walking with surprisingly light steps towards her, "every combination we could conceive of…your powers stem directly from the Mind Stone. There is no closer match, nothing else with a better probability of working."

She latched onto that word. "_Probability_? So you're not really sure that it will work?"

"Nothing is ever 100% proof," Bruce said, a little tremor in his voice and a trace of sorrow in his eyes, though it was nowhere near comparable to that which surged within Wanda again, overriding all the tiny sparks of hope and joy which had kindled like precious flames in the middle of nothing but biting cold.

"But we really believe this will do it," Shuri interjected, her tone bright enough to begin to lift dejected spirits from where they had fallen upon the ground – or at least she hoped. "If doubt outweighed that belief by the slightest margin then we would be coming to you with a different proposal, one which I believe Tony Stark already offered."

Once again she felt drained, clobbered by the weight of past decisions, pressing down upon her heavier than ever. She couldn't keep reliving the same nightmare again and again, already too defeated by all that had happened. Having the power to alter that course of events, so long afterwards, made her too vulnerable.

"I need some time to think about it."

The words that left her lips betrayed too much hope, her body evidently deciding she needed to live on the lie to exist.

The Princess nodded, seeming lost for words, and then accompanied her out of the lab, back to the brighter part of the palace.

"There's a room ready for you," Shuri's voice was an echo in her head, "let me call one of the guards to show you there."

Wanda shook her head, biting back the tears that were prickling again at her eyes and throat. "I'll stay here. I didn't come alone so I want to wait, for now."

The Princess nodded again, stepping away to let her sit.

"There is no immediate rush," Shuri's voice sounded out before she retreated back to her lab, Wanda turning away from the light spilling through the huge windows to regard the Princess, "everything will hold. Think, but I'd advise against getting lost in your thoughts. They can work against us, sometimes."

She pondered that very fact, amongst a million other possibilities until Sam and Bucky returned, and it was only when they appeared in front of her that she realised that the evening was setting in, the light outside turning to a deeper hue.

"Hey," Sam greeted her again, his tone soft as he regarded the haunted look upon her face. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded despite herself, standing again. Her gaze darted back and forth between the two, unable to remain calm for longer than a few seconds.

"It's not…um…they need me to…"

She was rambling, unable to explain properly. Sam laid a hand upon her shoulder, directing her eyes to his.

"It's okay, we're good. You wanna go get some rest?"

Wanda glanced from him to Bucky, who seemed to be silently advocating the same option.

"Yeah. Yes," she managed to say, trying to fight back the tension that was causing her jaw to clench painfully and her shoulders to bunch up.

Bucky said that he was going to catch up with T'Challa, leaving Sam to accompany Wanda to her room. How he knew the way she didn't know, but was in no state of mind to question. It was a beautiful room, all white and grey with subtle elements to signal the colours of the Wakandian flag, and with more facilities than she really needed.

"Take your time," Sam said as he took a seat in the corner, letting her pace the floor, "hell, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I'll just sit here until you're calmer."

Once she'd taken a few breaths she explained the crux of the matter, watching Sam's expression shift as he absorbed what she was saying.

"Well, it's got to be good, right?" he started after a few minutes of processing. "We know that you _can_ do it. All that time, everything you've done since we got back has proved it."

She sighed heavily, her heart pulsing with another hard jolt of anguish.

"It's not about that. I just…all I can think…"

_Why does it always have to be down to me?_

The tears came fast to her eyes as she considered it again, relived the moment that put a hole in her chest.

"He was in such agony when I was destroying the Stone. If he was here he'd say otherwise, but I know that he was." She didn't just see the pain etched upon his face but she could feel it in every single second, through all of the power that she was expelling and the focus she was trying so desperately to keep while the world shifted and broke beneath her feet. "I can't do that to him again. I can't keep hurting him by putting him through that."

Sam had sympathy in his gaze, lowering his head momentarily in understanding. It should have been unavoidable, or perhaps it was a cruel twist of fate, some terrible law of the universe that meant the worst suffering was reserved for the one you loved the most.

"But it's different this time," Sam countered, eyes back on hers, "you're not killing him, you're bringing him back to life. The polar opposite." He paused to give the argument time to settle. "You said there were replicas?"

"One more," Wanda replied, letting out a laugh that hinted only slightly at bitterness, "they were saving it for me to do my thing."

"So you can test it out before doing it for real. See what happens."

She folded her arms tight against her chest, turning towards the window which afforded her an impressive view of the Wakandian landscape.

"There are no guarantees." She recalled what Bruce had told her without meaning to sound cruel. _Nothing is ever 100% proof. _"They've done all the equations but the real thing in Vision's head could react differently. There isn't a way of telling."

"It's a shame Lang didn't come along for the ride. We could really do with some of his time-travelling juice about now," Sam said, attempting to lighten the mood.

She did consider that she was being too negative. If there had been any other option, if someone else was the one to save the day then she knew in her heart of hearts that there would be no hesitation. She'd be running to the lab, pleading with Shuri and Bruce to start whatever needed to be done straightaway.

She couldn't stop the possibilities from haunting her every way she turned. If something went wrong somehow, if she lost her concentration for a second or let her emotions get the better of her and it affected Vision, caused even one single neuron to corrupt and fundamentally change the person he was, she would never be able to live with herself. Some damage could not be reversed, some things far too precious to risk.

If she was going to do this then she had to stop being selfish. Vision was his own person, however he might differ or change over the course of time, not hers to claim.

"You know what I think you should do?"

"What?" She took in a sharp gasp, not quite expecting Sam to come to the point so quickly.

"Get some sleep," he replied with a small smirk curving the corners of his mouth. "Nobody can be expected to come to a rational decision after the kind of day you've had. Things always look clearer in the morning. Most of the time, anyway."

She couldn't quite manage a smile in response, the exhaustion of the last few hours hitting her hard.

"Thanks for listening while I try to make sense of all of this."

"Any time, Red." He rose from the chair and took hold of the door handle, turning towards her. "See you tomorrow. If you need a distraction you should let Bucky take you on his tour. He's actually pretty good at it, weirdly."

She lay on the king-size bed for at least an hour, hands knitted upon her stomach and the carousel of her thoughts occasionally slowing down but never ceasing completely. It dictated her movements in the end, and she rose, feeling too restless to lie still. She wasn't sure of the time but it didn't seem to ever get completely dark in Wakanda, the sky outside lighter than dusk.

Her stomach rumbled loudly, reminding her of the fact that she hadn't eaten since they'd arrived. Letting it decide for her she left her room and eventually found one of the guards, who said that he would arrange for something to be brought to her. She wanted to argue that she could see to it herself, but she also didn't want to appear discourteous.

Instead of turning around she ventured down the stairs, smiling at the other guards she encountered until she found her way back to where she had come from. She stood outside for a few minutes, cursing herself in Sokovian under her breath.

Before she could knock Shuri emerged from the lab, a little startled to find her there but wearing a soft smile upon her face.

"Can I ask something?" Wanda said hurriedly, her arms clamped against her. "I think it will help me come to a decision."

Shuri gave a nod of her head.

"May I…would it be possible for me to see him?"

Both her throat and heart constricted, ready to make swift apologies if she was told otherwise and run back to her room to stop the tears from overwhelming her.

Instead, the Princess smiled yet warmer.

"Of course."

* * *

She never would have known where he was if Shuri hadn't led the way. The Princess took her right through her vast lab, opening a door that brought them onto a corridor. The walls were empty for more than a minute until Shuri braced her hand against what at first appeared to be just another section before it glowed blue, creating a portal which allowed them to step safely through. Wanda couldn't help but recall Vision's phasing abilities, the many times she had been surprised and fascinated by what he was able to do.

They found themselves in a small, dim space – more of an observatory than a room – with glass panels that stretched from floor to ceiling. Wanda did not resist the pull that brought her directly to them, peering inside what appeared to be a slightly smaller replica of Shuri's lab.

Her gaze was held by the central table, her heart speeding up as she caught a glimpse of the crown of his head, his left arm and leg aligning.

Shuri's voice was soft at her shoulder, though her senses were otherwise arrested. The Princess said something about a blue button which would bring assistance to her if she failed to remember the way back. Wanda smiled in recognition of Shuri's instinct that she needed the privacy, to be with her love alone.

Inside of the room was biting cold, likely in double minus figures. The temperature barely registered with Wanda past the first few seconds. She moved without the feeling of her steps hitting the floor, almost as if she really was levitating, right towards where Vision resided. It wasn't until she got within inches that she noticed the previously invisible barrier, the holographic shield that caged the table, keeping him protected. Half of her was grateful that Shuri had gone to such lengths whilst the other resented that it stood in her way, stopping her from touching him.

In the end she decided that it was probably a good thing. She would have clung onto him, cradling him in her arms like she had done the last time they were together, before lying herself down by his side and swearing that would be the end of it, all of the pain and hurt. They'd know nothing but the other for the rest of time, in whichever world they found themselves in.

She made an attempt to swallow down the lump which engulfed her throat, working past the dark thoughts which had cast a shadow over her mind, tortured for so long by the crushing loss of him.

Her eyes filled as she looked down at him, still in disbelief and uncertain that this wasn't just another of her lucid dreams. The gaping hole in his head where his life force had been ripped from him had been repaired; she could see no obvious signs of where new vibranium met old, and his synthetic skin appeared as smooth as it had always been. Though he was drained of his vibrant red colour, the dark grey of his form bringing a sharp pang to the centre of her chest, he looked peaceful somehow. A single tear escaped to trail upon her cheek as she stared, drinking in the beautiful aspects of his face, all of the features that were no less than perfect, even when they were without life.

She placed her hands against the translucent shield, watching as it changed colour at her touch, moving from a vivid blue to a warm amber shade that pulsed gently, reminiscent of the Mind Stone's ambient glow. It gave her encouragement to press her fingers and palms a little more, in the hope that she might pick up on some signal. It was not like before, what felt like a lifetime ago now, when she lay the same hands upon the cradle that had housed his body, reading signs of him buried beneath Ultron's influence, the very start of his existence.

There was nothing but blankness, silence.

"Kokhanyy," she uttered in a near breathless whisper, leaning herself as close as the barrier between them would allow, "ya ne mozhu poviryty, shcho vy tut. Pryamo pered moyimy ochyma."

_Dyakuyu, Bozhe_, she murmured to herself, even if she couldn't recall the last time she had gone to synagogue or prayed past the point of utter desperation. This had all been down to Shuri and her fellow countrymen and women who had shrouded Vision's body in the Princess's absence. Whatever the outcome she would be forever in their debt for providing him with another chance at life, and didn't know how she could ever repay the gratitude she felt.

Though it was impossible she fancied that she saw a change in his aspect, a flicker of recognition that it was her speaking to him that disappeared within the space of a second.

"The last time I spoke to you I made a wish." Her breath caught for a moment, feeling like she was back there in the wide open with nothing but a sea of stars above her head.

One of her hands moved from where it rested, positioned on the shield just above his abdomen, up towards his cheek, fingers curving as though she were really able to cup his cheek against her palm.

A smile blossomed upon her lips while she continued to stare down at him, so much love and longing springing within her that she could barely contain.

"And now I know that you heard me," she murmured, the sound echoing within her chest and the tears almost blurring her sight completely, "because it came true."

Her other hand mapped out his body as she trailed it over the barrier that appeared to be glowing yet more intensely. Millions of memories came to her in a rush, threatening to knock her from her feet with the force in which they invaded her mind. Her fingers caressing tenderly under the sheets of numerous hotel beds in blissful aftermaths, at intervals replaced by the soft brush of her lips, soothing the spots where she had previously dug in her nails, testing his strength, relieved for his sake that he wasn't able to bleed.

Yet they came to discover that he could be wounded, and she winced in pain remembering how she had tried with her magic to heal him as he sat slumped, minutes before he begged her to leave him.

She wanted to fall to her knees, plead for the forgiveness that he could not give her, not at this very moment. They should have run away together long before he had hinted at the possibility, if only there had been the guarantee that this same fate would have not befallen them. She gazed upon him, seeking peace and solace amongst the chaos that held her in its seizing grasp. If it had gone on for much longer, life without knowing he was still in the universe, then she would have been happy to succumb to whatever darkness lay in wait, wanting to claim her as a prize.

_I want to hold you so much_. The brighter thoughts sparked like electricity in her veins, chasing out the smoke and shadows. _I want to kiss you again, feel your lips upon mine, bringing me back home._

The concept had felt foreign to her for the longest time, even after she had joined The Avengers. Going from city to city, somewhat strangely, gave her a place to belong.

_Home was wherever you were._

He stared back at her with unseeing eyes, the spot within his healed head remaining vacant. As to whether Shuri would place the new gem there, the choice lay entirely in her hands.

So many chances within something so small, millions more moments that they could call special, sharing them together. Reasons to live and look once more to the future that she had resigned to the past, against every wish in her heart.

Or perhaps it would bring something different entirely, something that couldn't possibly be fathomed until he was there standing before her, in whichever form science and fate in combination allowed. He might recognise her in a purely aesthetic sense. Worse still, he might reject any of her attempts to connect with him on a level deeper than the exchange of pleasantries, though she could never imagine that he would be hostile to her.

If that happened she didn't know what she would do.

The exhale left her body in a soft sigh, her throat aching as she considered what was truly the best thing to do. She thought about staying here all night, sleeping on her feet so that she could stay by his side. It had only been forces greater than her own existence that had torn her away from him before, after all.

Her heart spoke the loudest, certain all along of what she was going to do.

"Kokhanyy," she repeated the Sokovian pet-name, placing both palms square against the left side of his chest, "I want you to know that it's okay, whatever happens. I'm not going to do this for me. If you don't remember me, if you don't remember anything about what we were to each other, it's okay. I forgive you. Because nothing will ever be your fault."

Already she could feel herself breaking inside, without any knowledge of what could possibly happen. She knew that it was right, though, despite anything she felt or the notions she dreamt of in every moment that passed. He was always meant for more, fashioned in the form of a human but superior in every way fathomable.

"All I want is for you to have another chance, to have everything you deserve and so much more besides. To live again and never have your life taken away, not by anyone or anything." She gasped in another breath, letting it go weakly. "Vizh…"

It hurt physically to utter the name that she had given to him but it was necessary, all that she had in place of being able to lay a kiss upon his forehead, in the very spot where he was incomplete.

_I will do this for you. Everything I ever do will be for you, no matter what happens. _

It was with that solemn vow that she left, reluctantly, aware that this might well be the last time she knew him, _her_ Vision, though he would reside forever in her heart.

She hoped that somehow – perhaps beyond all reasonable hope – he would know that, and keep her in a part of his heart, too, incomprehensible as it might be.

* * *

Once she had informed Princess Shuri and Doctor Banner of her decision, the two saw little reason to delay. Wanda was permitted, even ordered, to rest in her room, joining Sam and Bucky for mealtimes and short walks outside. The same evening Shuri called upon her to come to the lab, having prepared the last replica of the gem, left untouched in order for Wanda to project her energy onto it. The day's relaxation and rejuvenation had done her good; she felt the full force of her powers flow through her veins and illuminate her nerves and fibres, spilling out from her fingers to imbue the small gem. In the back of her mind worries and doubts lingered, the predominant one being that the sheer potency of the energy she possessed would be too great for the new stone to contain.

Still, that was what the test run was for. It did not shatter in the wake of the force being unleashed upon it, remaining intact in the artificial environment that Shuri had designed to resemble Vision's head as closely as possible.

It would take a couple of days to determine a positive reaction, Bruce explained, but the initial signs were good. The gem did not reject Wanda's energy and the first tests Shuri carried out showed that the neurons had activated and were pulsing with life; it was not visible to the naked eye, but Shuri handed Wanda a pair of glasses that she had developed specifically to track such activity. She was astounded to see them, absorbed with the scarlet hue, moving fluidly and sparking vibrantly in certain places, signaling interaction with the copy of Vision's consciousness.

She tried to keep herself occupied in the space between, thankful that Sam and Bucky had stuck around for moral support. She had just got back to her room for the night after a run across the Wakandian plains with them and dinner afterwards when a booming knock hammered upon the door. She smiled upon opening, having already guessed that it belonged to Bruce.

"Sorry if I disturbed you," he uttered, trying to achieve the impossible task of shrinking his colossal frame.

Wanda shook her head in response. "I haven't got settled yet."

His expression seemed hesitant, or perhaps it was just that he didn't know quite where to begin. One of his huge hands reached around to scratch the back of his neck, fiddling with the collar of his suit jacket. She vaguely wondered where he got clothes so big as to fit his now permanent Hulk form; perhaps his entire wardrobe had transformed magically when it happened.

"I wanted to let you know as soon as the time marker had passed," the words came hastily when he spoke again, leaving little space for her to take in a steeling breath, "everything with the replica is great. Really, it's much better than our calculations predicted."

The news came as a welcome relief, stoking the flames of her hope and ramping up her enthusiasm. The voice at the back of her head pleaded with her not to get too far ahead of herself, that the biggest hurdle was yet to be overcome.

"I guess that means I'd better get to sleeping, huh?" she replied, unable to stop the smile from lifting her lips upwards.

Shuri and Bruce agreed to leave another day between the real procedure, though it would take less than a few minutes for the Princess to implant the untouched gem into Vision. There was no rush, they maintained, not when they had been assured by how well things had gone with the replica.

Wanda hated the waiting. She knew logically that it was the best course of action, and that she needed the time to conserve her energy for the most important thing she would ever do. Her plan was to follow a similar schedule as she had previously, building in some meditation with the Queen Mother Ramonda, leaving her body and soul the highest degree of serenity they could achieve. Ramonda gifted her with a set of kimoyo beads and passed on the deepest of her blessings, assuring that the whole of Wakanda would hold Vision and herself in their prayers.

Every minute passed as slow as several years, with so many possibilities scratching against the closed door of her mind. She wished for it to be over and done already so that she could proceed down one or other of the paths set out before her, instead of remaining stuck at the crossroads.

In every second that passed she thought of Vision, and in the depth of night found herself praying too, for his safe return above all, however it would materialize after her powers took their hold.

In the morning she ate alone in her room, knowing she would not leave it until necessary. Sam and Bucky came individually to wish her the best, Sam giving her a hug and telling her _"you got this_." It was good to have that kind of commendation from Captain America; at the least, it couldn't do any harm. Her mind went back to the immeasurable time spent in the Soul universe, the pain and confusion that rendered her useless for such a long period until she reclaimed some portion of control. The more she considered it the less sense it made, how she was able to reside there when she had been without the biggest part of her soul.

She cleansed her thoughts after the brief interruption, sat cross-legged on the bed and recalled the techniques that the Queen Mother had employed, called the deep rhythmic chanting from the recesses. Dark crimson was replaced by soft pink and then white, and she slipped into a trance-like state without being completely aware. It was what she needed, to be absent of thought, to centre herself in spirit and be conscious only of her breathing as well as the light which seemed to be engulfing her, making her weightless.

She woke – if that was the correct word – with a quiet gasp. The strong sunlight illuminated the room, bathing her in warmth. Instinctively she unfurled herself and rose, knowing that the time had come.

Without being called or accompanied she made her way down to the hidden chamber, her feet remembering the way. Within her the scarlet energy was bubbling, impatient to emerge. She contained it with peaceful thoughts that would have been beyond her as little as an hour ago, murmuring to herself to stay calm. She was teetering on the head of a pin; one tiny misstep and everything would be at risk.

Shuri greeted her with a smile and nod once she had emerged through the portal, though Wanda was largely oblivious to the Princess, remaining focused on what she was called to do. Bruce guarded the door to the room that housed Vision's body with the enormous bulk of his frame, stepping aside from one glance down at Wanda. Later he would admit to Shuri that he wasn't entirely sure that he had made the movement from his own volition.

The door clicked softly into place and she found herself contained, alone but not at all. She was positioned a foot or so away from Vision's head and allowed herself a lingering headlong look at his prone form before she closed her eyes, composing herself and waiting for the signal to be given, her breath laying heavy in her lungs. She would not falter, not now.

_Vizh_. She called to him within her mind, which had never known as much peace of her own making. _Please forgive me if I hurt you._

She tried not to recall his words which echoed in her heart, knowing they would upset her as much as they offered comfort.

When Shuri gave the word it started slowly, not with the violent bursts that any outsider might have expected. The scarlet streamed from her fingertips in waves, directing themselves without a great deal of effort to the new gem was set into Vision's forehead. The room filled with an aura, bright red swirling and settling. While she was glad that her power was ordered rather than exploding kinetically Wanda did not feel like it was enough, certainly not to animate her beloved back to life. She flexed and shaped her hands, raised them higher and focused her concentration into a narrow channel, set straight towards the gem.

Within a second she could feel the energy pulse stronger, flowing with greater power from her hands. She resisted the urge to scream or make any noise to encourage the scarlet to spill faster or harder, instead utilising all of the depths and corners of her mind, using only the strength of her thoughts to bring her powers out to their full effect.

Her heart played a vital part, too. She imbued every spark and glowing burst she sent from her fingertips with love and serenity, leaving no space for fear or sorrow or trepidation. She would never let negative energy take hold of Vision, at least not willingly.

The room was nothing but red, and so it was hard to tell whether the hue that swept downwards from Vision's head to his torso and limbs was merely a consequence of the storm she had unleashed. Shuri counted down from ten and the closer the Princess got, Wanda was almost certain that she could detect embers of gold rising into the air, mingling with the vivid scarlet of the energy she continued to cast out, though she was working on bringing it to a simmer, curling her fingers and tuning her mind to do so.

"Two…one…zero."

At the very beat that Shuri concluded so too did Wanda's powers, ceasing without any further intervention, scarlet evaporating rapidly. She took one short breath before Bruce's hands grasped her, pulling her from the room and shutting the door quickly behind him.

Wanda gasped heavily, as though oxygen had been lost to her alone. Her limbs tight and her chest constricted, she pressed a palm firmly to the large glass panels that provided a view into the room. Though this had been the plan, to get her out the second after it had been done, she felt her heart physically aching, her concern entirely on Vision.

He was floating in the air, still horizontal. Now she could see that his skin had indeed reverted to the deep crimson shade that she knew and loved so well, the vibranium glinting in all of the places that were familiar. She breathed easier on watching him hover, knowing that there was life within him at last, and relieved beyond belief that he appeared so calm, as he had been the last time she had seen him but now renewed, revived by her power.

Yet in the next minute he dropped to the ground, and she let out a shriek so loud that it reverberated in the small space. She opened her eyes from the reflex action to see that he had landed on his feet, his own eyes having blinked open. His arms were raised as he examined his hands and the sinews that lay beneath, and Wanda studied his movements as closely as he observed himself, forgetting to breathe for seconds at a time as she watched from behind the barrier of glass.

Her hands ached with the urge to touch him, her lips keen to issue words equally as tender, telling him that it was alright.

Bruce approached tentatively, sidling nearer and reaching one of his arms out towards Vision, who stared at him, half-man half-Hulk. The one with enough strength to contain Vision if he should lash out, confused and uncertain, or perhaps completely sure of who he was. Wanda reeled at the thought, her head telling her that it would be better to look away but her heart stubborn, attached more now than she had ever been.

Vision mirrored the doctor's pose, looking at him with curiosity. Of course, he had not seen Bruce in his hybrid state before. Before he could set his hand down to meet the one that was offered by his co-creator, Vision's head seized back and his feet lifted from the ground once more. What followed was a series of incessant whirls around the chamber, his body dashing back and forth and almost ricocheting off the walls.

Wanda turned to Shuri, the Princess reading the terror in her eyes.

"It's okay," she reassured in an even tone, counteracting Wanda's panic that something must have gone terribly wrong. "The neurons have been dormant for so long, this kind of instinctual reaction is normal. He's over-stimulated now, but things will settle."

They looked back through the panels, where Vision's frantic movements were beginning to slow.

"It's nothing I've done?" Wanda asked in a trembling voice, her eyes pinned to him, watching as he regained control of his body, coming to sit heavily upon the table that had held his weight for so long.

"Without what you can do, this never would have been possible," Shuri replied with a warm smile, which did console her.

The Princess and Bruce would monitor Vision's progress for at least 48 hours, keeping him in isolation for the most part. Both of them assured her that there was no reason for alarm, the window of precaution being a reasonable one. Vision would benefit from the time to adjust to the surroundings that were largely new to him, as well as being brought back to life without warning.

Wanda fought the natural urge to go in pursuit of him, taking up her time with sleeping, meditating and watching from the sidelines as Sam and Bucky went through training exercises on the Wakandian plains. She contemplated joining in for some brief moments but knew that her heart wasn't in it, and she didn't want to risk causing any damage, not when Vision was so close at hand, recuperating.

She was thankful for the meditation techniques that she had picked up so swiftly, else she never would have been able to rest.

In the middle of the night she was wrenched from her dreamless sleep by distant noises. Her eyes shot towards the ceiling, and if anyone else had been in the room they would have been struck by the red tint of her irises, adding a light to the cloaking shadows.

She knew after less than a minute that she was not mistaken, being familiar with the feeling after spending too long mourning its absence.

She could feel Vision's presence in her mind, sensed that he was dreaming.

Her heart hammered hard in her chest, enthralled by being able to feel him once more. The sensations were more intense than they had ever been, though she wasn't entirely sure whether it was down to her powers being the source of his revival or whether he was still working through the phenomenon. His dreams were certainly not as serene as she hoped they would have been, sharp static around the edges which caused her skin to prickle and her temples to throb, flashes of bright and almost blinding colour running through her head.

The sounds that had woken her, crashing and clattering and the faint echo of someone crying, came from the same dreams, she realised, and her euphoria made way fast for fear.

If she had done the wrong thing, then may God forgive her, even she could not forgive herself.

* * *

She sat in the chair near the far corner of the room, trying to focus her attention on reading the book that she still hadn't managed to finish, when a gentle tapping came at the door.

_Not Bruce, then._

Princess Shuri greeted her with a smile, her gaze dropping to the book that remained in Wanda's grasp.

"Oh, that one's on my list. Not that I'm sure when I'll get round to making a start on it."

Wanda smiled gingerly. "I feel like I've been reading it for a hundred years. It was Vision's, and I just picked up where he…"

Shuri gave a slight bow of her head, hardly needing to clarify her reason for coming. Wanda felt her heart drop like a stone past her turning stomach.

The last two days had been harder to endure than the previous twelve months. Knowing that Vision was alive but being unable to be near him and to know how he was faring – past the fractured thoughts and unsettling dreams that had come into her head, setting up their stead – was the worst torture imaginable, outstripping all that she had experienced in The Raft and at the hands of Strucker.

She should have been ecstatic at the prospect of seeing him again but instead she felt the weight of the world upon her, terror having taken grasp of her heart in cold, unforgiving hands.

Still, she was unwilling to wait any longer, now that the allotted amount of time had passed. Trailing Shuri with tentative steps through the palace she tried not to predict how the reunion might go, her mind being in enough turmoil as it was. She just needed to face up to it, and let whatever would happen take its course.

The Princess took a direction that she did not expect, her heart seizing up as though it had been thrown in ice.

"We thought it better to take him out of that freezing room, and give him the best aspect instead," she explained, leading on to one of the main rooms in the palace, situated above her lab.

A room that Wanda remembered only too well, filling her with dread.

Shuri stopped outside of the entrance, turning to face Wanda with a smile.

"I hope it is everything you could wish for," she said, her tone utterly sincere.

Before the Princess could take her leave Wanda reached out, grasping Shuri's hand in her own.

"Thank you," she uttered in a voice that was only slightly broken, her eyes wide and shining. "Whatever happens, you looked after him. You didn't give up, and I can never thank you enough for that. Doctor Banner, too."

Shuri returned Wanda's smile, shaking her hand before she turned to go.

The light of the Wakandian sun as it gleamed bright beckoned her into the room, her breath catching as her eyes fell upon him. Her everything, in front of her once more. He stood at the window, the golden cape flowing from his shoulders. Wanda watched as he raised one of his arms slowly, pressing a palm against the long pane of glass which overlooked the roaming landscape.

The room was so quiet that she could hear him breathing, exhaling steadily and in time with the regular beat of her heart.

She felt like she was intruding upon him when he had seemed to have retained peace, and if she had been less selfish she would have walked away, leaving him to make his own decisions independently.

"Vision."

His name came out small, not fitting enough for the wondrous being that he was. She was still astounded at him being there, not convinced it wasn't a dream – she prayed that it would not transform into a nightmare while she remained helpless.

He did not move from his position, staring out at the encompassing view which certainly did hold a great deal of beauty.

She could not blame him, she had already promised him that much.

A minute more passed, during which the tears threatened to engulf her throat, stealing her sense of speech forever more.

"Vizh," she called louder, though her voice remained tender, completely awe-struck.

She tried to stop herself from shaking when he turned, those brilliant blue eyes meeting her emerald ones. Even at the distance she could see his irises revolving, processing the sight of her. It felt like an eternity filled the space between them, a gulf that she was unable to cross even with all of the power that she possessed.

And then, a miracle. His expression shifted as he continued to stare at her, his lips twitching and curving into a smile.

That smile that she adored and had missed so much.

"Wanda," he uttered, the smile remaining somehow as his mouth formed her name.

She probably should have fought harder to contain herself but her body betrayed her, quickly closing the space that remained between them. Later she would realise that Vision had moved forward too, making her feel less at fault for barrelling herself towards him without thought or care.

The feeling of his arms around her, hands delicately cradling her as she pressed herself against his chest, was almost too much for her bruised heart to handle.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, the anguish seeping through in her voice even while she felt such utter joy, "I'm so, so sorry."

"Wanda," he repeated her name, cupping her face and tilting it towards his gaze, "please don't cry."

The tears had slipped down her cheeks without her realising, and she gasped as he wiped them away with the pads of his thumbs, only for new ones to fall and be caught by his gentle caress.

She stared up at him, seeing the adoration in his eyes, unmistakable to her now. A choked sound left her throat, her hands grasping tighter to his waist.

_It's you_, she thought, the voice in her head repeating over and over to clarify the miraculous fact.

She broke into a beaming smile when she heard his mind answer hers.

_It's me, Wanda._

Her laugh was joyful, her hands slipping upwards to brace his torso.

"Oh god, Vizh," she uttered breathlessly, relishing being touched so tenderly by him, one hand remaining upon her face and the other cupping her hipbone. "I never thought…"

"Neither did I," he said, stroking fingers against her hair, "it's quite…astounding."

She smiled to see his face, so full of life and looking down at her. She was quite sure that she would never stop smiling, now that he had returned to her.

"I love you." She felt her heart lighten with saying the words that she had kept sheltered and barred within her for so long, much longer than had been necessary. Her eyes watched his own light, before they dropped to take in the curve of his lips. She pressed her right hand to the left side of his chest, feeling the beating of his heart once more. "I love you so much."

His thumb swept over the curve of her cheek, still damp with the tears she had shed.

The way he smiled down at her, so full of awe and reverence - and sheer happiness above all - had her soaring.

His head dipped slowly - achingly so - stopping short of meeting his lips with hers, his eyes not looking away from her until the very last second. Wanda was bold in taking the final step, sighing her utter joy as she fell into the kiss that she instigated, plucking at him with eager but tender fingers. The moments slipped by hazily as they began to rediscover what they believed to be forever lost, the kisses they shared soft and achingly sweet, full of praise and adoration for the other.

Eventually they broke apart, though keeping their foreheads pressed together and arms encircled around one another. Wanda was quite determined that she would never let him go again, not caring in the slightest if it was impractical.

"No more leaving," she said, feeling the press of the new gem against her skin and relishing it, before fixing another quick kiss to his lips. "I'm staying with you, forever."

He smiled at her, drawing her closer still to him, where she was very happy to go.

"I like the sound of that," he uttered softly, causing her to grin even while the tears continued to cascade. This time it was his lips rather than his fingers that kissed them away, making her sorrow an illusion.

Against all of the odds they had finally won, and it was the greatest victory that she had ever known.

* * *

**A/N: Ukrainian (Sokovian) to English translations:**

**_kokhanyy _= beloved**

**_ya ne mozhu poviryty, shcho vy tut =_ I cannot believe you are here**

**_Pryamo pered moyimy ochyma_ = right in front of my eyes**

** _Dyakuyu, Bozhe _= Thank you, God **

**Okay, so I'm pretty sure this isn't a feasible theory, as far as they go :D (and I am definitely not a scientist of any kind, even in the MCU sense of the word) but...I think it stands to reason that Wanda could be involved in reviving Vision, even if not solely. Also I love their link through the Mind Stone and think it's next level romantic for Wanda's powers to bring Vision back to life. It's my fic, so I do what I want ;) (we'll have no thought about dark spirits and possession around here, thank you very much)**

**This is only the beginning of the ScarletVision fluff, there's much more to come!**


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

The haze lasted for weeks rather than days, and it was so wonderful that she never wanted it to end. Tears still flowed like rivers from her eyes but this time they were ones of happiness, making way for the endless smiles that were a permanent feature of her appearance whenever she was in close proximity to him, the love of every single existence she would have.

And given the fact that she didn't leave his side for longer than a couple of minutes at a time, it meant that her cheeks and jaw were aching near enough constantly. It was a physical pain that she was quite happy to live with.

After they had managed to tear themselves away from each other's arms and spent some time simply getting readjusted, Wanda had led Vision downstairs to the room where Sam and Bucky were residing, checking first several times whether he was up to seeing anyone else. He smiled and nodded and held onto her hand tighter, buoyed by her excitement. While she was very keen to keep him all to herself she also couldn't contain her euphoria, wanting to let the pair who had become her closest friends in the aftermath, seeing her through all of the anguish and heartbreak, know about the miracle that had come true.

It was fair to say that both Sam and Bucky were a little dumbstruck, and she supposed that it was understandable; after all, she had hardly imagined herself that it would ever be possible that they would get Vision back. After the initial shock and slight feeling of awkwardness had worn off Sam came forward to clap his hands around Vision, exclaiming that it was great to have him back, while Bucky was more reserved but seeming just as pleased. Wanda could do little but stand beside Vision, looking at the scene and grinning stupidly, and taking his hand back in her own once Sam had stepped aside.

Vision was largely quiet in his acceptance of the praise and well-wishes, always modest even when he wasn't overwhelmed by being brought back to life by the magic contained in her hands. He did offer his apologies to Sam and Bucky, several times over and despite Sam insisting that there was nothing to be sorry for. That, in his own words, "so much shit has gone down that this is exactly the crazy, completely unexplainable thing that we need."

Wanda saw the Captain flustering when he realised how candid he had been, and laughed off his own attempts to apologise. Both of the guys hugged Wanda and she laughed into their shoulders, feeling the ecstasy continue to flow through her veins and Vision's adoring gaze trained upon her.

They retreated back to her room, Vision exploring the space that she had started to make her own despite the lack of personal belongings. She left him to make himself comfortable and though it was a wrench to do so the logical part of her brain told her that it was a good thing to let him just be. She could do more than imagine what was going through his mind, feeling his thoughts more intensely than before, but she stayed firmly on the sidelines, letting the vibrations hover at the edges of her. The last thing she intended to do was intrude when everything was still so new and no doubt confusing to him.

All she wanted, and indeed needed, was to bask in the wonder that was him, even more beautiful than he'd been before the tragedy that had befallen them.

It took less than five minutes for her to get through to Clint, his voice on the line hoarse and rasping. She tried to calculate the time difference between Wakanda and the US, and when she failed to do so accurately put part of it down to Clint's irregular sleeping pattern, not too dissimilar to her own. He perked up when she told him of the news about Vision, sincere in his exclamations of joy for her, and her heart lifted yet further to hear him. He hadn't seen Vision since the Civil War, her body still stinging with regret and her mind wishing to erase the encounter between the three of them at the Compound completely. She was aware that he still had his reservations but after everything that had happened he was letting go, and more than willing to put them aside for her sake.

She just wished there was something she could do that would ease his sorrow, but she knew it would take years to overcome.

There was no question about her staying in Wakanda for as long as was needed. She had no immediate commitments as an Avenger, and what was much more important was that she had already made a promise to Vision to never leave him again. She did not know how long it would take but it did not matter; his recuperation and wellbeing were her main concerns, and they would take as long as they needed to adjust. T'Challa, Shuri and Ramonda had all very generously made the offer to her that she may stay for as long as she wished and had made her feel so at home in such a short space of time.

Time spent together was the one thing that they had longed for, and to have it as an infinite resource was an incredible blessing.

Sam and Bucky left for New York after a few days had passed, with fond farewells and good wishes. They knew that she was exactly where she wanted to be with Vision next to her, his hand entwined with hers, so they had no need to worry.

She felt a little greedy and selfish, but she had spent too long without him and far too much time lost in her thoughts and what she once considered to be hopeless dreams. On balance she felt better about indulging herself, her eyes lingering on him whether he was across the room or right by her side, and to her delight he spent very few moments straying from her hand. The smile stretched across her mouth as she swept her fingertips over his arm and shoulder, caressing the slope of his neck before cupping her palm over his cheek. Her thumb pressed against his skin while she watched him, gazes settled nowhere except upon each other's face, sweet words leaving their lips in whispers.

Minutes and hours passing in so much serenity.

The Princess and Doctor Banner stayed firm to their duties of care, running checks and setting aside daily observations on Vision. They didn't take up a lot of time, the pair being mindful that the best progress he could make would be on his own - along with Wanda's help, of course. While they carried out their little tests Wanda sat in the room and watched, partly to see if there was anything she could pick up but mainly to stare at Vision; she really couldn't keep him out of her sight, nothing would ever be enough for her. She held out her arm when the examinations came to an end, happy to see the natural concern fade from his expression and even happier when he closed his hand around hers and they headed for the retreat of their now-shared quarters.

In their cocoon of sheets they were at their safest, even as the threats chasing and encircling them had long passed with the tyrant's destruction. Neither wanted any more than the other's embrace, keeping them warm and loved, kisses exchanged between lips as well as string after string of words. They talked about everything and nothing, the past as well as the present. They felt they were both lacking the required knowledge about that particular subject, given that six years had passed since they had last been together. For both of them it had not been that long at all and Wanda found it to be a blessing as well as something to mourn over; if she had actually had to live for six interminable years without him she was certain that she would have lost her mind, not daring to think about the terrible fate that could have befallen her, as well as the world at large.

It was going to take a while for them to wrap their heads around the world as it had become, and keeping themselves tucked away would help, as well as talking about happy events. She told him about all of the reunions and tears of joy, the victories that were won despite odds that appeared impossible. She told him the story of Tony Stark's survival and of Morgan, the bright little girl who brought such light and optimism for a better future. She spoke of divides being crossed and bridges being built, civilisations coming together and friends becoming family who offered comfort through the darkest of days.

When he asked her to tell him what had happened during the fateful battle she did not shy away, even as the memories pained her. She remembered kneeling on the dust-covered ground before Strange summoned them, opening up the portals one by one with Sam flying out across the sky first, leading the way. She had not wanted to join them, only wished to be left alone in her misery and grief. She just wanted something for herself. She was ready to argue if anyone challenged her, knowing that she didn't possess the energy that was required of her at that moment in time.

She couldn't stay behind. Looking in his eyes, seeing his irises turning as he took in what she told him, she smiled through the anguish that she was reminded of. The reason for her getting to her feet and taking to the sky in an almighty blaze of scarlet was right in front of her, hanging on every word that she gave to him.

The power that she unleashed was surprising to herself at first, given the depths to which she had fallen, but then it became so easy, as effortless as breathing. Grief was her ally throughout the fight and she took the time to relish what she was capable of, the terror she induced in that monster. Most of all she sought vengeance. A part of her knew that she could have done much worse, wreaked far greater havoc, but she had kept him with her through it all, keeping his good nature cherished in her heart, vowing that she would do right by him.

She stroked her thumb against his cheek, looked up at him from where her head rested upon his shoulder. His blue eyes were practically shimmering down at her, she felt wonderfully bathed in his gaze.

"You should have been there," she uttered, softly but with conviction, her eyes pinned upon him as he lowered his head in a gesture that she recognised as self-deprecating.

"It sounds like you all did perfectly well without me," he returned with a small smile and tender tone, eyes still burning into her own. "Besides I would likely have still been injured, and so more of a hindrance than a help."

"That doesn't matter. Everyone would have helped you, fought with you."

She hated that she still felt a strong feeling of rage about it, and she certainly did not mean to direct her anger towards Vision. It just felt so wrong to her that he hadn't had what he so rightly deserved, more than the rest of them put together.

Her eyes softened as she kept her gaze connected with his and she cupped his face with her palm as she shifted to better face him.

"I just…" she searched for the words to fit her confusion of feeling, love being the conquering power over everything else, "you should have had the chance to stand with us. After everything…"

Her words began to falter as the surge of emotion got the better of her. Vision placed his hands upon her arms, his touch warm and comforting. She sighed as he pulled her into his arms, nestling herself against his chest and being calmed by the steady beat of his heart.

When some moments had passed and the wave subsided, his voice came softly again, asking what had happened to the one person she had thus far failed to mention. She was sorry that she could not tell him of the true extent of Nat's fate, relaying what had been passed to her by Clint, recalling how he struggled through necessary pauses and unavoidable breakdowns into tears.

Vision held her tighter, remorseful that he had asked in the first place. She answered that it was not his fault, squeezing her arms about him and brushing her lips against the base of his throat.

"You have lost so much, my love," he uttered, his own sorrow at Nat's passing evident as he comforted her, the fingers of one hand combing through her hair soothingly. She hummed in response to the action. "I only wish it should not have been so."

She raised her head, looking at him before she cradled his head with both of her hands, a wide smile chasing away the shadows that had descended.

"I got you back," she said, her voice cracking just a little even as the smile she wore beamed brighter, "so that means I have it all."

Wanda watched the smile bloom upon his face, one of many which took her breath away. He lowered his head so that their foreheads touched; she could feel the power that came from the gem – her own power, placed within him – radiating, warm and potent, reacting to the happiness she felt and doubling it with his own. She giggled when he nudged his nose against hers, and he echoed her laughter after a moment or two had passed.

She placed her arms against his shoulders, fingers wisping against the nape of his neck while his hands settled a few inches above her waist. They were unhurried in their movements, simply enjoying being so close to one another, with mere breath between them. Her eyes had fallen closed of a natural accord and after a few fleeting, unpurposely teasing brushes of lips she opened them, marvelling in how incredibly beautiful Vision was. His handsomeness was all the more striking at such a proximity. His eyes were still shut and she missed not seeing the cerulean hue but she also loved how innocent he appeared in his expectancy to feel her, sparks of electricity coursing up and down her spine and throughout her bloodstream to watch him.

She brought her hand up slowly, her thumb cresting the air before it traced the curve of his bottom lip. His sharp intake of breath made her stomach jolt, her eyes smiling at his when they opened, the only thing that he could see her face but a couple of inches away from his. She lingered for a few moments, sweeping back and forth, watching him keenly. The knot in her stomach tightened when she saw the colour of his eyes shift a shade darker, an odd noise escaping from her throat when he traced his fingertips over the side of her face, pushing her hair back behind her ear tenderly.

The world around them simultaneously stilled and speeded up when their lips met. She thought of first kissing him in the hotel room she had all but destroyed in London, bringing calm to her chaos, making her feel like she finally belonged. She thought of all the times before that she had so desperately wanted to kiss him, and all of the times after when she felt she had been blessed with the greatest riches imaginable.

They stayed close after breaking apart, hands issuing caresses that were equally as reverent. So thankful for everything that they had, once again.

"We should get up," she hummed, not feeling any inclination to move despite saying otherwise.

His hand brushing delicately against her cheek was almost lulling her back to sleep, though she was also pulsing with life.

"Do we have anywhere else to be?" he responded, dipping to press a kiss to the same spot that his fingertips had just swept past.

Both his action and his words made her grin.

"I suppose not, not until you have your daily check-up, anyway." Her eyes met his again, glinting with promise. "You're getting your wish, at long last."

She stretched her limbs against the comfortable bed, leaning on her elbow as Vision remained sitting.

"We were too late for the sunrise," she murmured, a little sadly.

"Oh, that would have been nice," he replied. "Maybe tomorrow."

She laughed, looking off towards the window, the landscape showing that the day had long broken. "This time I promise to be fully awake to enjoy it. Not like in Madrid."

There was a long beat of silence before she watched his lips part.

"Madrid?"

He uttered the place name as if it were an alien term, the lack of recognition upon his face sending a shock to the centre of her chest.

"Yeah, we were there when you got me up to see the sun rise. I was so tired from all of the train rides, but it was perfect, being there with you. Even if it was far too hot."

There was still nothing, no flicker or sign; he stared at her, eyes full of concern.

"We were there for five days," she went on, "we went to the cathedral and the Cine Doré…I ate almost nothing but strawberries, because of that statue of the bear. And also because it was really hot." She flashed him a wide smile, which faded as she saw the panic creep into his expression. "Vizh."

"I don't remember," he said slowly, as if trying to comprehend the words themselves along with their meaning. "I don't remember being there, and not with you."

His hand lifted to press against the stone residing in his head, growing increasingly agitated.

"Hey, it's okay. It's okay."

She went forward on her knees, taking his head in her hands. She could feel him shaking, and her only wish was to soothe him, dotting soft kisses around the gem and rubbing her thumbs in gentle circles again the high arches of his cheeks.

"It doesn't matter," she uttered softly, her eyes firm upon him as he came down from what they would later both discern was an anxiety attack. "All that matters is that you're here now."

She lowered her hands slowly and consciously, softly pressing her palms against the upper portion of his torso, allowing him to feel the finest detail of her fingerprints upon his costume. Her eyes looked calmly into his and she made her breathing slow and even, influencing his responses.

The smile flared upon her face when she felt him relax, his arms lightly circling her waist as she knelt in front of him.

_You're here with me, and you're safe._

"We'll have so much to see, don't you worry about that."

His small smile lifted her heart further, and she was determined not to relinquish until she heard his sweet laughter ring out again.

"A million sunsets," she sighed, leaning in close so she could begin pressing soft kisses against the line of his jaw, revelling in every one that she was going to issue, "and whatever else you want to find, miy solodkyy."

* * *

She was woken by searing pain, running in a vertical line from her crown down through her forehead. It felt as though something, or someone, was gouging a hole there and would not stop, despite her silent screams of agony.

In the darkness she touched a hand to her head, the sensation ebbing away to nothing once she was fully conscious. She knew what was happening, and her attention was immediately focused to the source, her gaze casting down from where she sat. Vision was curled against the mattress, his limbs tight and rigid and his expression gritted.

She had known well enough of his self-taught ability to dream, had felt the confused and tumultuous dreams that had played out in his mind in the first days of him being brought back. He had not experienced a nightmare before now, and though it was perfectly understandable it broke her heart, after the blissful days and nights they had spent together. Perhaps there was more that she could have done to stop him from suffering; in the depth and silence of the hour it was incredibly hard not to give in to the guilt clawing at her.

She used all of her mental faculties to push the feelings aside, knowing that they would not help. Some consequences were inevitable and to deny them would hurt more in the long run.

He was silent and still for a long time. Wanda watched through the shadows for the slightest movement, her eyes trained in devotion. When he started to shake and tremble the onset came quickly, along with the whimpers and laboured breaths that left his throat. While she was a little scared of causing him more anguish she did not hesitate in placing her hands upon him, love replacing fear as it always did in the end.

"He's here," she heard him murmur in a terrified voice through the gasps he made, shuddering against her hands.

"It's okay," she said gently, hot tears prickling against her eyes. She willed them to stop from falling, refusing to give in to selfishness. "Kokhanyy, it's okay. He's gone. He's gone and he will never come back again. Ya obitsyayu tobi."

She cradled him to her and though it took a while, time moving through the night unseen, eventually she felt him relax beneath her fingers, his cries falling silent. She carried on with her gentle caresses when the terrifying illusion faded to black, leaning down to place a kiss upon his forehead.

Through it came the promise, amplified in her mind so that he could always be assured of it, whether asleep or awake, in her arms or further away.

_I won't let anyone hurt you ever again._

* * *

They started each day with a walk, exploring the nature of their surroundings. It was good to get into a routine – it would be of greater benefit than detriment, Wanda decided – and it was something they both enjoyed greatly. There was so much to see in Wakanda, all of it breathtaking in its beauty and unlike anything that could be found in any other country on the face of the earth. Some days they became so engrossed that they could easily walk for miles and were only made aware of the progression of time by the change in the light, as well as her stomach complaining for food.

As much as anything else it proved to be a good distraction, though neither of them lost themselves completely, the facts of reality hovering close at their backs.

Vision's memories were fractured; not disappeared beyond retrieval but rather scattered far and wide in fragments, some further out of reach than others. He could recall with clarity the earliest time of his existence, the battle of Sokovia and the events of and leading up to the Civil War between Tony and Steve. He remembered Colonel Rhodes' incapacitation and mourned again the part he played in it. He knew that he had been absent from the Avengers compound for periods of time and recalled travelling considerable distances, if he did not know the exact whereabouts of his destinations. He remembered making the journey to Wakanda the first time and the crippling pain his body endured during it.

More vivid than anything else was the fear and agony of what had been his final moments.

The happier memories were much hazier in his comprehension. The two years they had spent, running and hiding but finding so much joy in doing so, existed in snatches, floating puzzle pieces in his head. Wanda mourned for it, but she did not aportion blame, knowing that Princess Shuri and Doctor Banner had done everything possible in the face of incredible adversity and near-impossibility. It hurt that he didn't remember everything she did, wasn't able to share in her fond memories of their times together- even if he did smile along at her recountings - but it could have been so much worse.

She would do all that she could to make things better for him, whether that was helping him find his way back through the past or centering him within the present.

They roamed the landscape, hand-in-hand, one pulling the other along when something caught their eye and they were keen to take a closer look. They were as comfortable in silence as they were exchanging conversation, admiring one another in glances they believed to be secret. When they caught each other's gaze they bestowed smiles on one another, Wanda's fair skin blushing to be admired in such an honest and beautiful way.

"I'm sorry," he said after a while, as they stopped at a stretch of greenery, wildflowers all around them, "that I can't remember events that were evidently important. I will try harder."

Wanda shook her head, tilting her gaze upwards to hold his own. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Not a thing."

She reached to trail her fingers against his cheek, matching the soft breeze that was non-existent at that very moment.

He looked down and away from her, struggling to take her words on board. She placed her thumb under his cheek, smiling as she guided his gaze back to her.

"It doesn't have to happen all at once. I have faith that, given time, they'll come back. Like these," she pointed to the different coloured blooms that sprung upwards from the ground, "petals unfurling themselves to the sun."

He smiled at that comparison, his eyes flickering between her and the host of flowers, then back again.

"And if they don't, then it won't matter." Her smile cast a sorrowful shadow, knowing that each memory was of importance, pieces of him just as much as they were of her. She wanted to be a comfort to him. "Every day we're making new memories."

"That is true," he replied, and she was glad to see a look of serenity in his eyes, helped by the peaceful atmosphere and the distant soft-calling of birds.

She stepped in closer towards him, slipping her hand into his open palm, smiling as he cast his gaze down to study the intertwining of their fingers.

"I know that I love you, more than anything," she uttered, sheer emotion causing her to slip back into the accent she had all but lost in the last few years. She sounded more like she did when they first met, which made her smile. "And you…"

She faltered for a moment, not wishing to put words into his mouth.

"You know that you…"

"Love you," he finished for her, confirming what she felt from him, the emotion that emanated in waves. "Yes, I love you."

He paused long enough to allow what he'd said to sink in, her heart racing with such happiness. Perhaps he couldn't explain how but she didn't mind at all, only grateful that he still did and that it was so apparent when she first laid eyes on him after he had been revived.

"I think," he spoke again, looking from their joined hands up into her eyes, "perhaps my love for you is the only certainty of my existence."

She wasn't sure if she gasped or made any other audible sound to convey the depth of what had been sparked within her by his admission, her senses completely overcome. This man, whom she loved with every atom, who was so gentle and kind and full of endless wonder. He amazed her so much, and apparently she was at the centre of all of what he was. She knew better, but still thrived on his words, feeling the love and warmth in the way his fingertips pressed softly at her palm.

She let him linger for a while and then closed both of her hands over both of his, caressing and cradling them. She dipped her head in reverence, as though she were kneeling before an altar, pressing her lips against the heels and then the centre of his palms. All of the kisses she issued, turning over his hands and repeating the action, were not enough compensation but they provided some way of showing how intensely she returned the love he showed to her, and how her own love would last a lifetime.

If only she would have looked up as she did so, she would surely have noticed the shining of his eyes, not simply made by the tears that had begun to well there – a feat that anyone would have supposed a synthetic being to be incapable of.

He had been defying expectation since moments after his birth, and now was no different.

As happy as she would have been to keep his company for her own she realised that it was not in his best interests. They saw less of T'Challa, who was kept well occupied with his diplomatic duties, leaving Wakanda for longer periods at a time now that things were more stable, but spent a good deal of time with Queen Mother Ramonda, who practiced the same meditation techniques with Vision as she had with Wanda and which she would be always grateful for. It seemed to have a positive effect on him, and Wanda made sure she went through the routines with him whenever he became caught in an episode of anxiety.

It touched Wanda's heart to watch Vision with Bruce, who was prolonging his stay in Wakanda for as long as she was, keen to ensure that Vision's readjustment to the world progressed as it should. Though many might doubt it from mere appearance, the two men's otherness too much of a challenge to overcome for some, their natures were in close harmony and she could see it from the way they easily interacted, talking for long periods and laughing occasionally, Wanda taking great pleasure in the way Vision's face lit with joy. There was little doubt in her mind that Vision had inherited most of his personality from this half of the pair who created him, if either men could have been said to have so much of an influence.

Vision was also very fond of Shuri and liked to spend time sitting in her lab, watching her as she worked on new innovations that would surely astound the world at large when they came to fruition. It was often staggering to believe that she was not yet out of her teenage years. He would ask her questions about her processes, attempting to restrain himself when he thought he was interfering and delaying her in her work. Shuri assured him that he was doing no such thing, happily answering in detail and smiling as Vision gasped and sighed in response. Wanda was more than happy to be a listener, glad that he had someone who shared his passion of science and also understood the mechanics of it.

That was the great commonality he had with Tony, though it was not the only, which Wanda was aware of now that she was starting to know the man she had held a bitter grudge against for so long better. She had called the Stark household to let him know how Vision was getting on, and passed the line to Vision himself to allow him to talk with Tony. She'd walked away far enough that she didn't hear what was being said, thinking it wrong to intrude. They had a lot of catching up to do, which would go along better in person.

Vision's expression changed halfway through the call, and Wanda found herself grinning when she heard him utter the greeting.

"Hello, Miss Stark. Oh, yes, _Morgan_. It's a great pleasure to speak with you. Wanda has told me a lot about you."

Morgan kept him for quite a while and he looked a little exhausted when he got off the call, though pleasantly so. Wanda reached for his knee when he sat down on the sofa next to her.

"Morgan was very excited to speak to me. I had to give my apologies to Miss Potts for keeping her up past her bedtime."

Wanda chuckled. "She's definitely her father's daughter, but she is very adorable. It's going to be so cute when you actually get to meet her, Vizh."

He looked a little stunned by the prospect, but a smile quickly melted his features.

"I am very much looking forward to that."

They played Scrabble and chess, and it was part way through a game of the latter that he paused to bring up the subject of being an Avenger once more. Wanda pretended she hadn't heard for a moment or two, studying the board with unseeing eyes, until she could no longer deny, turning her gaze up towards his.

She was in two minds about the prospect, as well as being anxious most of all not to go too fast and push him into something he wasn't ready for. In certain moments she worried that she was smothering him with so much of her attention simply by being there with him, though he did not complain. Perhaps he was just too polite. Part of her was in no doubt that she wanted him by her side through everything, including in battle, feeling they'd lost too much time as it was. The other part was petrified, almost paralysed with abject fear at the thought that she could lose him again. She knew that she wasn't strong enough to take it another time.

It was his decision, she reminded herself, and by the way he spoke it appeared that he had already made his mind up, independent from her input. She still worried that he hadn't had enough time to adjust physically, even though he bore absolutely no sign of his former injuries, no yellow flickering visible beneath the deep crimson of his skin. The regenerative cells that Helen Cho had implanted in the new vibranium plating which covered him had worked wonders.

He held a knight between his fingers, contemplating much more than his next move.

"It won't be the same, will it?"

She didn't know whether he was referring to the loss of the old compound, or that neither Tony nor Steve would be there to guide them. For the briefest of moments she considered that he meant something else entirely, a sharp shiver possessing her when she thought about everything he had come to lose.

"No," she murmured, watching as he placed the piece down upon the board and her hand hovered between the _tura_ and _pishka_ in response.

She felt Vision's eyes upon her, soft and sorrowful, before they lowered to anticipate her move.

She pulled her hand back, settling on neither piece.

"It'll be okay," she uttered, with more confidence than she really felt.

There was so much to consider and they were all still finding their way. Sam had a lot to learn and he hadn't said for certain that he wanted to be the leader, though he likely felt that it was his responsibility.

She had wanted to follow up with an assurance. _Maybe it'll be better_. It felt too much to promise right now, and so she refrained. She thought back a little way to one of the most painful times she had lived through and the realisation she had come to; that in the midst of uncertainty, and even in calm, you had to focus on what could be controlled, rather than what was out of one's hands.

She came to a decision on the pieces, choosing perhaps the one that was too easy, but _easy_ felt good at this point.

"We don't need to think about it now," she said softly, hoping not to sound dismissive as she settled the pawn, her eyes remaining upon him and testing out a smile, which he returned to her delight.

"No," he echoed, leaning back from where he had been hunched over the board, relaxing his body against the chair. She liked to see him do so; he never lost any of his agility or elegance, unlike so many other people.

A little, peaceful silence followed before he spoke again.

"I like being here with you." His utterance was as confident and sure just as much as it was easily given. "Having this time to relearn, and just…well, be."

She smiled at the way he phrased the sentiment. It wasn't until right then that she realised she had needed the experience as much as he had, having carried so much around within her for the past year. Breathing was no longer a luxury she felt unworthy of being afforded.

He hadn't needed to relearn how to win soundly at chess.

His terrors continued at night and she was always close, where she needed to be, doing whatever she could to take his pain away. She was careful not to jolt him awake and add to his panic, the mere thought causing her heart to contract. Instead she held him gently, one hand against his side and the other at his head, issuing soft caresses. Scarlet streamed slowly but steadily from her fingertips, wreathing around his temples and brushing against the stone which contained its likeness.

When he roused, unsure in the first few waking moments of his safety, she was there by his side, speaking softly to ground him where he was. His eyes flickered, taking her in, and she smiled, leaning forward from where she lay to pass tender kisses over his forehead, cheeks, nose and, finally, his lips.

She felt his mouth smiling against her own, his hand languidly stroking repeatedly against the curve of her side to assure himself – and her just as much – that she was real.

Serenity descended like the sunlight would, in some hours still to come, fall upon the ground, blessing the earth with another new day.

"Let me tell you," she said in a voice only a little louder than a whisper, not wanting to break the sacred quiet in their room, their perfect shelter, "of the moment I _knew_."

She did not need to expound upon the incarnation of the word, her wide and soft smile full of meaning that he understood. His eyes were fixed upon her, looking into her own before they strayed to her lips, ready to watch the words before she uttered them.

"We were in Malmo. It was a beautiful place, but I couldn't really enjoy it. My head was so full, and I didn't know why, because whenever you were with me I always felt so calm. Like you were opening your mind and letting me live inside."

His hand had drifted up to her face and she couldn't stop herself from sighing at his touch, the backs of his fingers stroking very lightly over her cheek.

"I asked if we could go back to the hotel early, and of course you obliged me. You went to your room and I went to mine, even though I didn't want you to go. I was so close to saying something, but I don't know…I guess I was doubting myself. I didn't remember lying down or falling asleep, but what came after that, I remember too well."

The nightmares that had held her in their vice-like grip had been the worst she had experienced, before she was visited by worse from reality. The bombs and the burning, silence and high-pitched screams that sliced through her brain and left her limbs rigid; the loss of her parents, Pietro and her country, all of her greatest tragedies amplified.

She hadn't been able to make sense of it at the time but those terrible images had contained the loss of him, too.

"I don't know what I was doing or saying, it almost didn't feel like my body was my own. Like I was lost. But then I felt you." The smile came back onto her face, having journeyed through the most frightening part of her remembrance to that which she cherished the most. "Your hands upon me. I heard you speaking to me. I saw your face."

The last thing she remembered before she fell into a deeper, thankfully dreamless sleep.

"When I woke up you were still there. It was like you hadn't moved an inch." She smiled wider, recalling the devotion he had paid to her and feeling the same warmth as she had then running through her. "You got breakfast for me, found my favourite tea and made it just the way I like. It was everything I needed."

He was staring at her while she remained split in two, halfway between that perfect moment from the past when it all became clear and this equally wonderful time.

If there was beauty to be had in loss then surely it came in this form, the chance to live over again.

"I _always_ had a crush on you," she announced, watching him as he turned bashful and finding it absolutely adorable, "and I knew I had feelings for you, even when things went a little wrong."

They'd both relived their guilt, putting it firmly to the side. There was no longer space for it amongst everything else.

"But it was then that I was sure," she placed a palm against his chest, swearing that she could hear his breathing hitch. "I was in love with you."

It had been strange but in a very good way; expected, she now realised, given that she had no frame of reference. She loved Pietro with all of her heart, but that was different. She had never really considered the phenomenon that people spoke of and which so many stories were told happening to her, and it had all come about so naturally.

She began to giggle, caught up in memory and the intensity of that first realisation.

"I didn't kiss you for another month after that."

She had wondered, somewhat idly, what it would have been like if he had been the one to kiss her first. She thought that she would have liked it. Even with the ability which had been discovered, she wouldn't have gone back and changed the way things had happened between them.

His eyes smiled at her while his mouth remained pursed, his hand rested upon her hip beneath the sheets that covered them.

She wished that she didn't feel deflated; it should have been enough for her to recall on her own. It didn't make the memories any the less special that she was the only one to have them, and she certainly wouldn't mind telling them again at some later point, if she knew it would help.

"I remember."

It took her a moment to register what he said, or more accurately that she hadn't dreamt it. The room was still purple-dark, and he was still staring at her, the perfect blue of his irises like starlight lighting the world up.

"Vizh," she uttered, her palm fitting to the curve of his cheek, "you don't have to say that for my sake."

"I _remember_," he repeated, taking her hand into his. She should have known better than to doubt him, seeing it in those beautiful eyes, shining so clear and brilliant. "I really do. Sitting with you through the night, and coming to you when you were suffering. I flew to your room when you spoke to me, telling me to come as quickly as I could."

Her own face lit up, knowing that the memories were there for him too, as real as she knew them to be.

"I remember how afraid you were, and how I wanted to do anything I could to make you not so. I – "

He faltered for a moment, raising their hands until she could feel the warmth of his breath upon her skin, goosepimples prickling at the back of her neck.

"I remember doing this," he said, leaving a small beat of breath before he pressed his lips to the back of her hand, moving them gradually until no inch was left untouched.

Wanda smiled and sighed, murmuring a little when he kissed from the heel of her hand down to her wrist, his fingers filling the spaces between hers.

It had become a language of theirs, and one which he was always keen to speak, praising her. Telling her without reservation that he adored every part of her, even those parts which were capable of causing untold destruction.

"Vizh."

She uttered his name in a half-broken breath, completely overcome. His eyes flickered towards her, full of concern until she opened her own again, telling him without words – for she was momentarily unable to speak or make any semblance of sense – that everything was alright.

It was much, much more than that.

"_Zalyshaysya tut_," he uttered, voice reverberating in the otherwise quiet room, "ty tse skazav, i ya kazhu vam tse zaraz, ya zalyshayusʹ. Zavzhdy."

"You speak better Sokovian than I do," she said, laughing so that she wouldn't cry from sheer euphoria. She pressed a hand against his face, pulling herself closer to him and looking deep into his eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too."

She closed her eyes, resting her head against his and feeling his heartbeat against her own, content for them to stay right here where they were, forever.

"I think I might have known before then," he said after a few moments spent lying there, forgetting that anything or anyone else in the world existed.

"Okay," she giggled, tracing her fingertips over the ridges upon his cheeks, "it isn't a competition."

He smiled softly, and she felt pride in thinking that he had loved her first.

"It will take me some time to recall accurately, though," he added, by way of apology.

She responded by kissing him slowly, savouring his lips against hers.

"That's alright," she said, now proud of the awestruck expression that covered his face, "we do have forever."

* * *

He continued to receive glowing reports at his check-ups with Shuri and Bruce, and it was on the basis of these that he decided to test out his abilities. Given everything Wanda felt reassured, too, and was there to watch and discover along with him what he was capable of. Some of it amazed the both of them, and there were disappointments as well as triumphs. His ability to phase seemed to have disappeared with the destruction of the Mind Stone, along with his density control.

He could still fly, though – which surprised them both – and his strength remained impassable. In order to test it he had asked Wanda to direct heavy objects towards him with her psionic energy, and though she had been reluctant at first she did relent, holding back from using the full force of her powers. He withstood the assaults without so much as a flinch, causing them both to smile – Wanda partly in great relief that she hadn't hurt him.

They spent a little time every other day running through exercises, nothing as strenuous as what she was used to in training with Sam and Bucky. It was best to go gradually, work up little by little.

Vision asked gently if she would show him some of the things he had missed – by that, he meant by his absence at the final battle. She obliged, though she did not go to the same lengths as she had done. Sometimes she doubted whether she would ever display such extremes in her powers ever again, or have the emotional fuel to do so, but it was not something she minded greatly, given the circumstances.

All the while, as she blasted herself upwards and tore holes through the air with the glowing scarlet that spilled from her hands, she was aware of him hovering a few feet above the ground, sitting cross-legged and watching her amazement. For a 'finale', she set a crimson tornado to swirl upwards from the dust, stretching up and up, higher and higher, until it set the sky on fire. She exhaled a heaving breath when she was done, nearly collapsing with her exertion. Vision swooped over, ready to catch her should she fall, though she did not do so.

"That was incredible," he uttered, his hands placed on her waist as he stood behind her.

She was thankful for the solidity of his presence, feeling somewhat light-headed.

"I only wish that I would have been there to see you. You are so beautiful."

His kiss upon her cheek both comforted and disadvantaged her.

They retreated back to the palace, Vision cooking dinner for another evening – something which he had started to experiment with again, recalling how much he enjoyed the pursuit, especially when he did so for Wanda. She ate the meal gladly, only noticing halfway through that she felt shivery and a little weak. She returned to the seating area while Vision cleared everything away; she felt bad that she didn't offer to do it herself out of fairness, but in honesty she didn't think she was able to stand long enough to do so.

Vision himself noticed that there was something wrong, though he made more of it than it really was, she was sure, looking at her with worried eyes and sitting close to her on the sofa.

"Are you okay? Perhaps you should go to bed."

She shook her head faintly, not wanting to confess how much it was throbbing.

"Moving? No, I'm good, thanks."

He narrowed his eyes towards her, unable to shake off his concern. To appease him she did move a little, the effort of doing so in disproportion to the amount she physically achieved.

"I'm just a little cold. I'm okay, really, Vizh." She managed to smile towards him, reaching an arm out. "Let me sit with a blanket or something."

He acquiesced with her request, wrapping a blanket from the back of the sofa around her shoulders and pulling her into his arms. She rested her head against his shoulder and let herself relax, so much that she drifted into sleep, not waking even when he levitated them both to the bed.

The next morning he was already up when she awoke and she smiled to see him going about his routine. She stretched her legs against the mattress, but couldn't get up. She barely had the energy to move, both her feet and her hands were freezing, and her breath felt uncomfortably tight in her chest.

"Vision!" she managed to call out, her voice shaking and heart hammering.

He went immediately to her, taking one of her hands into his, unfazed by how cold it was. She wanted to hold onto him forever, but he said that he would go and find Bruce, that it wouldn't take long.

She knew that her eyes were wide with fear, even as she nodded in agreement, letting his fingers go one by one.

_I'm scared._

Bruce came into the room with Vision and Shuri in tow mere minutes later. Vision resumed his place by Wanda's side, taking hold of her hand before she reached for him. On the other side of the bed, Bruce leant in to check Wanda's vital signs, measuring her pulse.

She held her breath waiting for bad news, gripping tighter to Vision's hand with the strength she could muster.

"It's nothing bad," Bruce said, sensing both Wanda and Vision's anxiety, "the symptoms all line up with anemia. It's easily treatable."

Wanda could physically feel Vision exhaling in relief, and they looked at one another with small, grateful smiles.

It wasn't to say that it put her completely at ease, as she still felt terrible. When she could tear her eyes away from Vision she looked instinctively towards Bruce, who seemed to be deep in contemplation.

"Have you been using your powers?" he enquired eventually.

Although his tone was perfectly normal and even easy, she couldn't help but feel guilty.

"A little," she began, knowing that it wouldn't do any good to lie. "Vision and I have started to do a little training. Nothing full-on. And Vizh has been having trouble sleeping well, so I thought it might help."

She looked towards him again, expecting that he might confirm the latter to be true, and found his expression utterly heartbreaking.

"It isn't…" he stumbled over his words a little, before taking a steadying breath, "I haven't been draining Wanda of her energy, have I?"

"No," Bruce assured straightaway, "the gem works completely independently. It needed Wanda's power to start it up but it took everything it needed at the point of activation. It doesn't need to continually draw from its energy source."

Shuri cut in, "And the regenerative cells that Helen provided also help with that. The ratio between what was needed initially to what is required to sustain you day-to-day is crazy."

"You expended a hell of a lot of effort in activating the gem, Wanda," Bruce turned to address her where she lay, looking rather hopeless. "We can sit and draw up equations for years, but the calculations are nothing compared to the real cause and effect. It's the equivalent of, I'd estimate, losing 10 to 15 per cent of the blood in your body."

He paused to bow his head, and then looked over at Shuri, who shared his pained expression.

"Putting it down to missed calculations is no defence. We took for granted that you were strong enough to withstand it."

"We're so sorry that this happened," Shuri offered to back up the professor, walking over to stand closer than he was to Wanda's bedside. "We should have been looking after the both of you."

Wanda couldn't blame them, not having considered the consequences herself. All that she had cared about was getting Vision back.

"The good news is that it's not fatal, and we caught it before it got worse," Bruce said, his hands knitted together, "it's a blessing that you started getting back into the swing of things, slowly. But right now, you have to rest."

Shuri suggested that a compound using a little of the heart-shaped herb native to Wakanda, as well as other healing plants found in the landscape, would help in restoring Wanda's strength. Such supplements would be just that, however, and they were all aware that a transfusion would be what was needed.

"The problem is," Bruce began, with a furrowed brow, "the two people who are the closest match for your power are both currently off-world. And Nick Fury does the calling, not the other way around."

"Come on," Shuri exclaimed, "not that I know the guy, but who's going to argue with the Incredible Hulk?"

Bruce tipped his head, suggesting that just because he was The Hulk it didn't mean that he wasn't immune from being scared witless.

"It might take a few attempts, but once he knows what it's for he'll be convinced." Bruce looked towards Wanda and Vision, as physically close as they could be without sharing the bed. "Leave it with me. In the meantime, I don't want you to move unless it's absolutely essential. And absolutely no using your powers. Not even the smallest amount."

Wanda nodded solemnly, hoping that Vision's nightmares wouldn't be as severe as he'd been used to. She would find it the most difficult not to intervene with those.

Once Bruce and Shuri left the room Vision brought Wanda's still-freezing hand to his lips, peppering it with kisses while clinging on with both of his hands, his thumbs rubbing warmth into the numbed skin.

She smiled while she lay her head back against the pillow, already knowing that he was going to pamper her completely and utterly.

"I know they said it had nothing to do with the gem, but I can't help feeling responsible," he said, the regret in his tone clearly detectable, and laying yet heavier in his gaze. "I shouldn't have asked you to use your powers to gauge my own, or for my own selfish desires."

She shook her head, knowing he could be nothing of the kind.

"It was a good thing that I _did _use them, Bruce said so. You saved me, Vizh." A smile bloomed upon her face as her mind was cast back. "Again."

He remained unconvinced, his eyes whirring and his chin dropping.

Now that she had been diagnosed she felt stronger – perhaps it was psychosomatic, but she didn't really care. She used her renewed energy to squeeze Vision's fingers with her own, pressing their palms closer together.

"Even if it was the gem, then it would be worth it. Giving up my powers or whatever." Her eyes were soft and loving as she gazed at him. "I never want to be without you ever again."

"Nor I you," he replied after a moment of contemplative silence, a smile lighting his features. He pressed a firm open-mouthed kiss to the back of her hand, his eyes closing in moments of reverence.

When he opened them again they fell upon hers immediately, and she couldn't stop herself from smiling.

"Which is why I plan on obeying Doctor Banner's orders to the letter."

Over the days that passed Wanda was certain that she had never been quite so lazy in her life. She moved as far as to the bathroom, and then to the sofa in the downstairs suite they liked to occupy, with Vision accompanying her. He left her side only for his observations, which happened at a lesser frequency now, or to tend to her, bringing her food and the restorative mixtures that Shuri concocted, which were hastily washed down with tea to absorb the bitter taste.

She had to persuade him to keep up with the exercises they had started, not wanting his progress to go to waste, and he was only convinced to do so when he knew she would be able to watch him from a comfortable position, surrounded by pillows. Time spent outdoors was permitted but Vision insisted that Wanda did not expend any more of her precious energy than was necessary, scooping her up securely into his arms and flying them both at a low-level over the vast Wakandian plains. It was certainly a way that they could cover a lot of ground, and see many sights that as yet had evaded them.

Most of the time, however, they were still and sedentary, Vision reading from the book which he had forgotten he had ever started, with Wanda curled at his side, attentive and content in her listening, letting the smoothness of his words wash over her like healing waters. She was almost certain that he possessed such a power through speech and his existence alone, as she was feeling almost as good as she had been before her system had fell to the great shock.

It was during one such typical scene that Bruce rushed into the quiet room, the heavy pounding of his bigger-than-average footsteps impossible to disguise.

Both Wanda and Vision looked up from the open book towards the professor, who held a miniscule-looking phone in one of his large hands and grinned in triumph.

"Fury agreed, and he's already made touch," he explained, energy vibrating from the words he spoke. "Carol's on her way."

* * *

**A/N: Ukrainian (Sokovian) to English translations:**

**_miy solodkyy _= my sweet**

**_Kokhanyy_ = beloved  
**

**_Ya obitsyayu tobi = _I promise you**

**_Zalyshaysya tut = _Stay here**

**__ty tse skazav, i ya kazhu vam tse zaraz, ya zalyshayusʹ._ Zavzhdy = y_ou said it, and I'm telling you this now, I'm staying. Always.**

**Yup, I got totally carried away here. I just couldn't help myself *just giving myself the content that Marvel has thus far not given to me***

**I also apologise for slipping a little bit of angst in there with having promised all of the fluff, but I can't resist protective and pampering Vision.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

When Bruce had said that Carol was on her way they hadn't expected for her to arrive in Wakanda within the hour. A yellow and silver glow flooded into the room, Wanda and Vision turning to one another and smiling before Vision got up, moving towards the window. Wanda was still too weak to move from the sofa but she didn't need to; Vision described the scene below to her, sounding in awe at Carol's appearance on the ground, absent of any jet or other transportation to bring her to the palace.

Even while she remained outside, Wanda could discern the other woman's energy radiating towards her. She didn't know much about Carol, hardly having any contact with her other than in the battle, when everything was such a blur. Carol stayed for a few days afterwards, taking on the mantle of Steve's temporary deputy and helping with the clear-up when most of their number were too wiped out, either physically or mentally or both, to contribute. None of them who had returned got to know her all that well before she took off, reminding them that Earth wasn't the only place suffering the fall-out from the defeated tyrant's actions.

She did know that Carol was incredibly powerful – perhaps the most powerful being in the universe – so she felt greatly assured, and less guilty that she would be depleting her in a significant way.

Vision was back at her side when Bruce came through with the woman in question, knocking on the door though he hadn't needed to.

"Here they are," Bruce said, stepping back to allow Carol to go forward.

"I heard someone needed a hand," she smiled as she spoke. The vibrant, pulsating energy was now invisible to sight, but she still possessed an other-worldly aura. "Not literally speaking."

Wanda nodded from her seat, her fingers intertwined with Vision's as he sat forward. "Thank you. I'm sorry for taking you away from whatever it was you were doing."

"Don't worry about it. They can look after themselves for a little while." The ease with which she spoke made Wanda feel better. "Anyway, it's the least I can do after you helped me out against that purple asshole."

Bruce went through the steps of what would happen, which Wanda found herself grateful for – she'd been too overwhelmed and anxious to take it all in the first time around. Carol would have her blood extracted, and once that was done they wouldn't want to leave it long for the transfusion to happen. Shuri had confirmed what she had believed to be the case – that there were some of the synthetic regenerative cells that Helen had harvested for implantation into Vision before his revival left over. Only a small cluster would be needed to help ensure that Wanda firstly did not reject Carol's blood and then that her system would become immune to any further losses once the transfusion was complete.

If everything went to plan – Bruce always erred on the side of caution, to be completely safe – then she would be completely recovered.

"You might even notice that you feel markedly better than you did before," the professor added with a reassuring smile to sweeten his previous words, "although we probably shouldn't make any assumptions past what we're scientifically certain will happen."

Wanda smiled at Bruce and Carol, and then at Vision. She could feel his eyes set upon her, shivering pleasantly when he pressed his lips against the back of her hand.

"Miss Danvers," he said, standing from the sofa and going towards Carol, "as Wanda's significant other, I wished to express my extreme gratitude for your act of sacrifice, as well as saying how much of a pleasure it is to meet you."

Wanda beamed behind Vision's back at his tender words; though she felt at a loss without his touch, what he had said so sincerely filled her with warmth.

"I'm pleased to meet you too, Vision," Carol replied, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. She looked past his shoulder after a moment, smiling towards Wanda. "You got yourself a real sweetie here. I'm going to bet he's been wrapping you up like a burrito."

"Just a little," Wanda answered, smiling at Vision when he half-turned to her, visibly flustered.

"We'll get you rested for an hour or so and then you should be good to go," Bruce addressed Carol first before he turned his gaze towards Wanda, "and you guys stay here, we'll let you know when we're ready for you. Shuri said that you might want to see her mom?"

With Vision beside her again Wanda shook her head, though she deeply appreciated the Princess's foresight in thinking that she would need some additional help in relaxing. "I'm good."

She moved her hand from where she had placed it beneath the blanket covering her knees, linking it once more with Vision's. It felt strange not to be holding onto him, it was just like second nature to them.

Bruce nodded, and Carol smiled again before she made to follow the professor out of the room.

"I'll see you guys on the other side. Wish me luck."

Wanda snuggled against Vision's side, doing what she could to distract her thoughts. She even offered to take over reading, though it was tempting to let Vision carry on where he had left off. She knew that he wouldn't leave her until he had to and that thought alone was enough to comfort her in the face of any of her worries. Being alone would have made this much harder to bear, even if she would have had friends like Sam and Bucky there to back her up.

It wouldn't have been the same.

The hours went by at double speed, with Bruce poking his head around the door to let them know everything was ready. Wanda took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself before Vision scooped her up into his arms, insistent upon carrying her downstairs. She didn't want to think that she was wearing him out, and she could probably have walked some of the distance herself, but he moved effortlessly, holding her securely as he glided down stairs and corridors until they came to the same room that had played scene to his reawakening.

Bruce and Shuri made sure that Wanda was comfortable, giving the couple a few moments while the last preparations were made.

"Everything will be okay," Vision said in that smooth, even tone of his, "I'll be right here when you wake up."

She gave the hand that was holding hers an instinctive squeeze, while his other hand smoothed her hair back from her forehead.

"You promise?" she murmured in a quiet voice, even though she already knew his answer.

"Ya obitsyayu," he replied, smiling down at her.

"Okay," she exhaled, letting her hand relax its grip upon his and closing her eyes. She wanted his face to be the last thing she saw before the anaesthetic that Bruce administered took hold.

She heard Shuri counting down slowly, though she didn't make it past five before she was out.

The next thing she was aware of was Vision's hand back in hers. She murmured incoherently and felt him holding on to her tighter, then light came into her eyes as she blinked them open, followed by Vision wearing a concerned expression as he sat beside her.

"Hey, Vizh."

A smile stretched his lips, brightening his features. He leaned in closer while she flexed her legs and feet, aware that she no longer felt freezing cold.

"Wanda," he uttered her name unlike anyone else ever had, as though it were a sacred blessing. She watched him as he lifted her hand to his lips, bowing his head.

She felt a little groggy, as well could be expected, but the sensation quickly faded as the minutes passed and her lucidity increased. She was sitting up in little time, smiling and talking with Vision. Before Bruce had come they had got to a pivotal moment in the plot of the book, so they were both eager to carry on and see what happened next.

After a little while Shuri came to check on Wanda, explaining that they'd keep observing her over the next 24 hours but there was no reason why she shouldn't go about things normally aside from that.

"You'll be glad to know that you don't need to drink any more of those concoctions," the Princess added with a smile.

Carol had accompanied her in, hanging back at first. She looked perfectly unfazed, with a cotton ball taped to her arm the only sign of her part in proceedings.

"You look a lot better than you did before," she said to Wanda, her eyes bright.

"I feel it, too," Wanda replied. There was a surging in her veins that she couldn't quite describe; it was nothing bad, not at all. After the last week and the listlessness she had felt it was like being revived. The thought had crossed her mind, even before the transfusion happened, whether she might absorb some of Carol's powers alongside her own, but it seemed rather improbable. "Thank you, again."

"No worries. And I checked with Banner," she added with a smile, "this doesn't mean that you're part Kree or anything."

Wanda laughed, thinking that Carol must have read her mind.

"Can I be useful?" she said, moving a little closer to the free side of the bed. "Is there anything I can get for you? Although," Carol glanced across towards Vision, "you're being pretty well-looked after as it is."

Wanda smiled adoringly at Vision, who was staying firm to his promise, before she answered Carol.

"A glass of water would be good."

"Coming right up."

Carol sat with them for a while; it was nice to get to know her a little better and learn more about what she had been doing since that fateful time. As well as that it also helped to fill in gaps for them both, talking with one of the original 'survivors'.

"Though you will not agree, I feel that I am bound in your debt, Carol," Vision said, Wanda noticing how he had foregone the formal term of address with Carol's say-so. "Please say that there is some way that I can repay you for what you have done for Wanda. If not immediately, then something for the future."

"Well, in the absence of a crystal ball…" Carol replied, her tone gently teasing.

"You should let Vision cook you something," Wanda cut in, a wide smile gracing her face. "He's a whizz in the kitchen."

Before Vision could move to diminish his accomplishments, Carol grinned towards them both.

"That sounds pretty great," she exclaimed. "And it's been such a long time since I've had any real food that I don't know how I can refuse."

Wanda smiled again at Vision, who was working through the possible options in his head, she could tell.

"Um…well, I should probably see what's available," he stammered slightly, "do you have any allergies, Miss Da – Carol?"

"Honestly? A peanut butter and jello sandwich would be just fine." Carol stuffed her hands into the pocket of her jeans, having changed out of her suit before going down to the lab first. "I wouldn't want to keep you away from this one for too long."

Before she could look at him again, Vision's gaze was already upon Wanda.

"I do appreciate that," he answered Carol, who was currently caught between their loving glances, "but I'm certain that I can do much better."

* * *

The evening was a lovely one, Wanda very much enjoying being at the table and having dinner as she normally would instead of being curled up on the sofa with a bowl of soup. Vision cooked a vegetable lasagna with just the right amount of spice and Carol had two helpings, commenting that for someone who didn't eat he made a fantastic cook.

Bruce, Shuri and T'Challa joined them too, the time flowing by easily in such good company. It reminded Wanda of being at the compound and she felt a little melancholy amidst the laughter, realising again that it was gone. For a moment she expected to see Nat instead of Carol sitting at the head of the table and was struck with a sharp pang of sorrow, which was eased when Vision covered his hand over hers, out of sight of any of the assorted gazes.

It hadn't been planned and perhaps that's what made it all the better. By that account it couldn't really be called a celebration, but that's what it felt like, in an understated way. A celebration of life and overcoming the worst, no matter how insurmountable it seemed.

One by one the party dissipated until there was just Carol, Wanda and Vision left. They were both fascinated in talking to her, hearing her stories of worlds neither of them knew much about. She spoke with so much candour that they both, but especially Vision, found entirely refreshing. She wasn't like a lot of other humans.

They hoped that she might prolong her stay for longer but she was sticking to her plans to head back into space and resume the work she had dedicated herself to, which they had much admiration for. She did mention that she would head to the US for a couple of days first to visit a woman called Maria and her daughter Monica. Wanda noticed the bright smile that lit Carol's features when she spoke of them, thinking that it seemed rather similar to the one she wore when she was around or simply thinking of Vision.

Wanda put it to Carol that she'd be more than welcome to come back at any time, not doing a very subtle job in trying to recruit for the new incarnation of The Avengers. She wasn't sure what Sam would make of her efforts on his behalf but she was pretty sure that he'd approve, as well as finding it hilarious. She'd already attempted to persuade Bruce to rejoin to little success, saying that he'd done his time. At the very least it wasn't an outright rejection from Carol, who said that she was always ready to take the call and join in where she was needed.

In return Carol suggested that if they ever needed somewhere to lie low that Maria's door was open. She was especially convinced that both of them would get along well with Monica, who was quite a bit older than Wanda was expecting. The only picture Carol had of the three of them together she looked to be about nine years old but it appeared to be from quite some time ago. Apart from having longer hair Carol hardly appeared any different.

They headed to their quarters not long after Carol had gone up to the suite she was staying in for the night. Wanda was a little restless, not knowing quite what to do with all the energy she now had having grown accustomed to the opposite. In the end she settled in a half-curled position on the bed, it being too late in the day to do any training exercises. Though both Bruce and Shuri had deemed her completely well and healthy she wasn't sure if she should wait a little longer to start them up again.

Vision came through from the bathroom and stayed staring at her for a few moments at the foot of the bed, as though he was trying to discern whether anything was the matter.

"I'm fine, Vizh," she answered his silent questioning with a sincere smile, smoothing her hand against the sheets at her side. "I'd really like a cuddle, though."

"Oh, of course," he uttered softly, looking a little shamed that she had had to spell it out.

Wanda, on the other hand, appreciated that he always took the time to be assured that she wished for his affection, through explicit questioning or giving her the space to decide for herself. The only times she refused were when she was concerned for his own wellbeing. He hadn't been able to contract her recent illness through contagion but she had still kept him at arms' length, out of her own superstition.

He levitated from where he was, hovering over the bed to settle behind her, fitting her back against his torso like puzzle pieces that clicked into place together. Now that he had rediscovered what he was capable of he was especially fond of moving by the power of flight, utilising it for the most mundane needs. It made her just as happy to watch him and the wonder that sparked in his eyes as he realised again all that he was.

"You know, with twins one is more prone to getting ill than the other." She pulled his arms tighter around her waist, cuddling closer into him. "I was the sickly one, whereas Pietro hardly ever caught so much as a chill."

She thought back to their childhood, telling Vision about the various times when she would be inside and wrapped in several blankets while Pietro was playing outside. He was such a fast runner, even before they had been equipped – or, as she had previously thought, cursed – with their powers.

"One time, when we were five years old, I got really sick. It started out as a fever but it got worse very quickly. When the doctor came he told our parents that I needed to be kept in isolation, for the good of everyone, but especially Pietro. Our mother told him that it wouldn't be easy. If Pietro wasn't out playing then we didn't like being apart for longer than a few minutes. They persevered with our separation, even when we screamed the walls down. I remember being so sore everywhere but I still cried at the top of my lungs."

Vision rested his chin upon her shoulder, pressing close to her in a gesture of comfort.

"I was very close to…" her voice broke a little, her memories becoming hazier. She recalled the low chanting of her father praying over and over, as well as her mother's crying. Hazy light mixing with black shapes that swam in front of her eyes. "Nobody expected that I would last through the night."

She remembered her twin holding her hand in his, smooth and cool against her clamminess. So close that he must have been crouched at her bedside.

"Somehow, a miracle happened. At least that's how our mother thought of it. By the morning the fever had broken and by the end of the same day I was sitting up, eating paprikash and talking away like nothing was ever wrong."

She repeated the affirmations that their father had made in the days after, that God had spared her because she was meant for great things. At the time they had been loving words that a parent said to comfort and remove the spectre of fear that hung at the shoulders of a child. She thought of this evening and Carol saying that she could have defeated Thanos single-handedly if he hadn't been such a coward and called upon his army for back-up. She doubted whether that was really the case, and whether such abilities made her _great_.

It was true that she had more faith in what she was capable of now, and wasn't afraid of the power held in her hands. That could hardly be so, not when she had used it for the greatest achievement possible.

"You have always been remarkable," Vision's voice sounded against her ear, measured and calm, "long before you had your powers. From the very moment you were born. I am certain of it. There is nobody else in this universe to compare to Wanda Marya Maximoff."

She laughed lightly, unable to stop herself from thinking that he was indulging her a little. From since she was young she had lacked confidence in herself. Pietro seemed to have enough of it for the both of them.

"I miss him every minute of every day."

The years, both present and missing from her memory, had done nothing to dull the ache. When half of your soul was gone there was nothing to be done to salvage it.

Though she was incredibly lucky. She wondered whether she was one of few, or perhaps even the only person in existence to have two soulmates, and to have one return to her.

"Tell me more about him and your childhood," Vision uttered before his breath hitched, "that is, if it is not too painful for you. The last thing I want is to cause you to be upset."

"You could never do that," she replied, turning her head to face him with a shimmer of a smile.

Her hand went forward to cup his cheek and she found herself staring into his eyes for a few moments before she leant her body forwards to capture his lips in a soft, meaningful kiss. He tasted of cool mint and she smiled against his mouth, thinking of the nighttime routine he had adopted when they had shared hotel rooms and had since returned to faithfully.

"Let me see," she said when they pulled away from one another, though their embrace ensured they stayed happily close, "I could start with the time he got us both stuck up a tree when we were seven, trying to catch a bird with silver in its feathers."

* * *

They picked up their training exercises over the days that followed, starting off small. Really, they were exploring rather than practicing for any specific reason; there was a freedom that came with nobody else watching them or timing how long it took for them to react to something. They certainly spent more time laughing and fooling about than they would ever have done under Steve's watch, and Wanda greatly enjoyed the opportunity to have fun with her powers. It made it all the more special to do so with the person she loved; hearing Vision laugh in delight while he watched her made her heart sing and feel that her abilities were truly something to be cherished.

One thing that they focused on more than anything, due to the fact it was an ability they shared, was flying. She loved swirling in the air alongside Vision, the two of them performing a kind of dance as they soared up high, the energy coursing through her veins quickly while she propelled herself. It brought back fond memories of the early days of being at the compound when she had stopped hiding away and spent more time with Vision, and the first time he had shyly suggested that he could help her in mastering the ability that she had tested out only sporadically, mainly because she was afraid of trying it for very long.

"_What if I never stop once I start?" she asked, in all seriousness. "I could keep going and going until I have no strength left, and then just…fall out of the sky."_

_He laughed – the first time she had heard him do so, which meant that she couldn't possibly take it as a personal affront. When he recognised the possibility he stopped abruptly, smiling softly at her instead._

"_That would not happen, I assure you. You must have more belief in yourself, Wanda." _

_Though it had been an effort at first he had reached the stage where he no longer called her 'Miss Maximoff', as she had told him she would prefer that he referred to her by her first name. It fitted their friendship much better. _

_She noticed that she got a strange fluttering sensation whenever he uttered the two syllables, starting from the pit of her stomach, stretching right to the top of her head and as far as the tips of her toes._

"_You will feel it when you want to go higher, and when you want to stop," he explained, moving closer towards her and tentatively reaching his hand out, stopping short of taking hers. "I cannot explain the sensation, and neither can I do any more than encourage you with words of reassurance. It is entirely your choice if you wish to try."_

_Her head tilted a little to the side, giving what he had said some thought – though she did smile as she did so. Another moment passed by before she righted herself, stepped forward and placed her hand in his. She fancied that she felt him tremble a little, though it was probably the gust of wind that blew past them – which didn't make her feel any easier about trying._

"_Will you do it with me? Just until I feel whatever I'm supposed to feel."_

_He smiled as she looked up at him, the sun sheltered from her gaze by wispy clouds._

"_Of course, Wanda," he replied, speaking much more calmly than she felt. "I will be here for as long as you need."_

Each day they got further and faster, rising higher and higher into the atmosphere. Mainly they stayed by one another's side but sometimes one would overtake the other, quite by accident and due to the greater strength they both seemed to embody. In realising what had occurred they would stay hovering for moments, always waiting for the other to catch up. When they were back together their combined energy propelled them with incredible force.

Eventually the feat of exertion kicked in for Wanda, although she found that she could keep up flying for a little longer each day, her record standing at nearly forty minutes at a time.

"Would you like lunch?" Vision asked when their feet were back on terra firma.

Her stomach stirred with anticipation at the thought, but there were other needs that took priority.

"I'm going to get cleaned up first. I won't be long."

She went onto her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek, smiling at the way he closed his eyes briefly and his expression froze, before heading for the bathroom. On her way she heard his delayed response, assuring her that there was no need to rush on his account.

It was unspeakably good for the spray of the shower to rain upon her skin, warm enough to allow the sweat to be thoroughly washed away and also remain soothing. She didn't bother to wash her hair, lingering just long enough to refresh herself. Showers had become one of her few indulgences in the time she hadn't needed to spend on constant guard of the minutes slipping by, but she didn't wish to keep herself away from Vision longer than was necessary. He really did make all of the difference to her.

She shut the water off once she had fixed the towel in place, the room less misted than it would have been if she'd had the heat on full blast, allowing her to examine herself in the mirror which covered half of the wall. The fading red of her hair was darker thanks to its dousing, hanging in slick ropes against her face. She lowered the towel gradually, uncovering her upper body inch by inch, checking herself over and not being quite sure what she was expecting to find. The comfort she felt in her skin caused her to smile at her reflection; it had been a long time since she had felt so at home there.

Satisfied with what she saw she was about to hike the towel back up when she felt a strange sensation ripple across her, stretching across her shoulder blades and spreading out to run the length of each of her limbs. It was more than mere prickling, closer to vibration – as though she could feel the molecules shifting their shape beneath her skin.

The soft gasp left her instinctively when she saw Vision's reflection behind her, and she turned to face him within the next second. He had diverted his gaze swiftly from her half-naked form, looking down at his upturned hands as though they held the answer to what had happened.

"Vizh," she uttered, moving towards him with the towel wadded in place against the top of her breasts. She touched his forearm gently, bringing his eyes back to hers. "How did you…?"

"I don't know," he responded, never anything but unfailingly honest. Wanda could read the confusion within his eyes as they searched her face. "I had started preparing lunch to be ready for when you had vacated the bathroom, and my thoughts had lingered upon you while I was waiting for the water to boil."

She smiled at his admission, feeling more reassured in the fact that her mind was near enough persistently set upon him.

"Before I knew of anything else occurring, I found myself here, in the bathroom. It is incredibly perplexing."

"Maybe that's what it was like when you used to phase," she offered, her hand dropping from where it had remained placed upon his arm. "I mean, I don't know for sure because I don't know what it would feel like for you…but I guess it would make sense?"

His features remained schooled into perplexion, mind running to catch up to what his body had achieved.

"If I could recall the corporeal sensation then I would have the answer, but it is unfortunate that I cannot."

This time she reached to his cheek, providing comfort in the most instinctive way she knew how.

"Whatever it is, it's good. You didn't think you were able to phase any more, and maybe this isn't how you used to do it, but it's definitely something. Another amazing thing you're capable of."

The thought went through her mind that she would have found him amazing even if he hadn't retained any of his abilities, and by the smile that blossomed upon his face she considered that he might have heard that particular one.

"We can test it out, if you like. Not right away. Give us a chance to get to grips with what happened." Her eyes softened as they stayed staring into his. "Or not, if you don't want to. It's entirely up to you."

"I would like to determine whether or not it was a fluke occurrence," he answered, his tone rational, "and attempt to understand the mechanics, if it is not."

She smiled, and then started to chuckle remembering the times at the compound early on when his phasing came at inopportune moments.

"At least you don't need to worry about not knocking anymore," her lips curved to their corners, "you know that you're entitled to see me like this."

"Oh," he stuttered out the small word, the synapses of the gem in his head flaring with flames of scarlet. "I suppose…but please do not think I did so with the intention of observing you unclothed without your knowledge. I would never intentionally intrude upon your privacy without first obtaining your consent."

She didn't mean to smirk at his formality, but he was just so downright adorable.

"I know, Vizh. And I love you for that. Well, not just for that, obviously…"

She caught herself before she could ramble any longer, craning again to press her lips against his smooth cheek. He lingered against her touch, smiling down at her until the thought of lunch and its potential ruin entered his mind. He used the conventional method of the door to make his exit, making Wanda smile in the slightly exaggerated way at which he did so, pointing to the handle with extended fingers.

They tested it out over the following days, going from one room to the next, inside to outside and vice versa. It transpired that it definitely _wasn't_ an isolated case, with success coming in every instance. And, in every instance, Wanda experienced the same near-physical sensation rolling across the surface of her skin while watching Vision come and go.

Neither could explain why it should be happening the way it was, so they sought the opinions of those who were more likely to have an answer, or at least were able to theorize one. Bruce and Shuri observed as Vision disappeared from the confines of the lab, to appear again a minute later. Wanda worried that he might over-exert himself by repeating the action enough times for the pair to come to a good-enough conclusion, but he appeared perfectly fine.

Bruce went on to say that while he wasn't completely certain, the most likely explanation was that rather than manipulating his own density Vision was instead manipulating the world around him – he was phasing the atmosphere instead of himself. To those who did not possess a similar ability no visible or tangible difference could be determined, everything other than Vision himself phasing in and out remaining static. However Wanda, with her own powers of energy manipulation, would be able to sense changes in the atmosphere. It was probably the case that the imprint of Vision's memories of the Mind Stone that had been captured during his remapping had interacted with the energy that Wanda had transferred to revive him, causing a shift in this particular ability of his.

They were both trying to understand the dynamics for some hours afterwards, until they mutually decided that not everything needed a reason why. In many ways it was purely fascinating that their individual powers had joined together in such a way, and something which made them both happy.

After everything, they both knew too well that happiness was not something that required an explanation.

* * *

"The sky is especially beautiful tonight."

Wanda looked up from where she was seated, with a mug cradled in her hands, to see Vision staring out of the two panes of window which stretched from the ceiling down to the floor. The evening had moved into night it seemed incredibly swiftly, without her really being aware until she found the room to be in near-shadow, save for the sensor lights that had switched themselves on automatically.

She hummed softly in reply, enjoying the natural light that was falling in, an ethereal shimmering.

"We haven't flown for some days, not since we discovered – or perhaps I should say, rediscovered – the particular ability of mine." He turned his body partly away from the view in front of them so that he was able to address her more directly. "Is there any reason that you would not consider doing so at night?"

"Not that I can think of," she answered, smiling as she noticed his expression shift, almost as if he was physically lighting up, on hearing her reply.

Their nighttime flights had been memories that she held dear, even though they had been so long ago. There had been other occasions since – fabrications of her own mind, as wrought as it was by such consuming grief, as well as yearning that refused to be quenched. She could feel herself heating, fierce colour gathering in the apples of her cheeks, as she considered the imaginings she'd had of them enacting a symphony in the star-filled skies, and bid herself to be calm. She was still a little ashamed of the times she had woken in the depths of night and was confronted not by tears that had cascaded from her eyes onto her pillow, but by her fingers delving further than the sheets that covered her, feverishly attempting to quell the aching she had tried to bury deeper than anything else, considering it to be the least respectful way to honour the loss of her love.

"It would be fun," she said, when she considered that she had been silent for a little too long, "have you missed our little journeys, Vizh?"

"Greatly," he replied without missing a beat, "although I cherish every moment that I spend with you."

She smiled, almost in a trance as she got up and went towards him, he meeting her halfway, meaning that she didn't have to wait as long to wrap her arms around his middle.

"Likewise."

The night air was considerably cooler, even in Wakanda's climate, but she didn't think about going back inside for a cardigan. One small glance upwards at the vast, star-covered sky was enough to capture her completely, making her forget about the possibility of being cold.

The beauty of the sky, and the feeling of Vision's hand in hers, warm and soft, his fingers caressing hers before he linked them closer together.

Her gaze went from the majesty of the stars to him, and she felt herself grow warm all over. He gave a little nod of his head, as if to ask her whether she was ready, and she answered with a nod of her own, the smile that began to spread across her face speaking far louder than words ever could.

They went up at a slower pace than they had become used to, recognising their own enchantment at being amongst the stars, able to reach out and touch them if they so desired. As it was they were equally enamoured with one another, continuing to hold hands the higher they soared, guiding each other in their ascent. Wanda found herself laughing in delight at the feeling of wondrous weightlessness, combined with the remarkable beauty of the tiny galaxies that surrounded them at every turn.

More than those two aspects put together, the fact that she was experiencing so something incredibly special that so few beings would ever get the chance to ever know with the person who meant more to her than anyone or anything else…it was more than she could comprehend, in that very moment or so many afterwards.

Vision asked her if she wanted to go higher and she responded with a near-breathless "yes" after she had nodded her assent. Their climb accelerated and it was almost as if they were balancing on the top of the earth itself, going past the stars until they were distant specks shimmering beneath their feet. Wanda clung tighter to Vision, her other arm wrapped around his shoulders, the strength contained within him as he moved so effortlessly in the atmosphere a power she could feel beneath her fingertips. She was a little scared of daring to let go, lest she discover that she had actually lost her own ability to fly and that everything was down to him.

The stars seemed brighter below them, throwing light upwards. There wasn't a discernible wind there to carry any melody towards them but Wanda could swear that she heard music.

"Wanda," Vision uttered her name, his eyes shining as he looked into her face, the difference in their height almost completely diminished, "I…I feel…"

"I know," she said, her hand fitting neatly over one of his shoulders, her gaze captivated by his, "I feel it too, kokhanyy."

He beamed at the name he had become used to hearing from her. The hand that was free at his side came to cover both of theirs that were twined together, making her gasp a little.

"My love…"

The universe, so vast surrounding them, narrowed in her focus completely to Vision's face, his eyes, his lips pressed to hers. Soft in the first few seconds, tender and almost teasing. His kisses were something she always needed more of, as vital as blood flowing through her veins. He sensed her need – or perhaps it was simply mirrored by his own –; one of his hands tangled in the mass of her hair, tugging her forward to his insistent mouth, sending shivers through her with the caress of lips and tongue.

She sighed into the kiss as it deepened further, her fingers pressing against his torso, solid and so much warmer than could ever be expected. They were coasting upon the air, the only beings up there at that point in time - the whole universe claimed as theirs – and still he pulled her closer, as though he wished for their forms to meld into one, fixed forever.

Stars that collided in the night, destined to follow their fateful path.

Her arms ended looped around his neck and his hands were centered firm upon her waist. Breathless, they blinked the starlight from their eyes, celestials filling their senses.

Her heart resumed its beating when Vision smiled at her, whispering words that rang in her head, mixing with the music that she could still hear vividly. They descended slowly but her feet were on the ground all too soon, the night's embrace releasing them.

Her head was spinning, swirling like the galaxies they had briefly been a part of.

The air was colder once more; she murmured that she was going inside. Vision remained standing, his figure to the landscape, his gaze no doubt marvelling at the millions of tiny specks of stars which appeared so unreachable from this distance.

She struggled to compose herself, heart hammering and breathing uneven as she balanced herself against the wall. It was probably a trick, she was aware of it as she stretched her arms and flexed her fingers. She'd felt gripping fear and soul-crushing panic many times; this sensation was not made of the same components.

The dull static became sharper in a matter of seconds. Vision phased in through the window, feet soundless upon the floor as he touched down.

"Wanda?" His tone was tender, curious; soft but hardly tentative.

She smiled at him, the muscles in her jaw tight. Even in the absence of much light, he would have been able to tell that she was flushed. Years ago, in the budding days of their relationship, he'd have enquired as to whether she was unwell.

He looked at her, gauging her reactions before coming closer.

"Is this because I kissed you?" He sounded more hesitant than mere seconds previously. She couldn't bear to think that he may even be regretful. "If so, I apologise profusely."

"Ni, Vizh, nikoly ne dumay…"

She spoke in such a rush that her words came out a jumble, and she already spoke Sokovian faster than English. She took in and then exhaled a steady breath so that she could go slower.

"No." _It is a little bit because he kissed you. Quite a bit more than that, really. _Her smile widened as she moved further towards him, reaching out to brush her pinkie finger against the curve of his hand. "I'm really glad that you did. I was starting to think you were shy of me."

His gaze dropped to the floor, which she found too sweet for words. "Oh no…I thought you might…well, perhaps it was the stars and…though I know it is _more _than that. Wanda, I…"

She slipped her fingers around his, tipped her palm upwards so that it kissed his, softer than their lips had done when they were floating amidst the night sky.

His eyes were so intense as they looked at her again, reaching into her soul. She felt such understanding, such belonging.

"I feel so much for you, it is always within me." His free hand rested against his sternum. "Sometimes it overwhelms me, bursts in its need to be free. And that moment was one such…it became too much to contain." He began to smile as she let out a soft whisper of a giggle. "I still feel that I overstepped."

She shook her head towards him, skimmed her fingertips over his jaw, before turning somewhat bashful herself.

"I…um…I dreamt of you while you were away." She looked back at him, feeling his gaze gently compelling her. "I dreamt about us, being together."

He didn't pry for further information; instead the way his eyes held fast upon her, focusing on how her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, told that he understood.

"I missed you so much, and I knew I would never…" The words caught in her throat, becoming easier when Vision placed a hand upon her cheek. She smiled softly at his touch, so tender.

Colliding with the memories of the dreams she'd both battled with and clung onto, sweetest fantasy and deepest torture, the fire that had already started to spark in the pit of her stomach stoking further.

"I could never let you go," she uttered. The last of the hurt that her heart had held onto evaporated before she could make sense of it, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist. "Believe me when I say that I will never stop wanting you."

His gaze dropped momentarily but she kept watch, following as it came back to her, finding everything she needed there.

"I may not remember every time," he began to say, eyes roaming every aspect of her face, "but I remember enough."

The stars in their splendour expanded in her mind again, taking her back in time and to another place. How wonderful that night was, when they first expressed their love for one another, so completely.

Vision's hands had settled a little higher than her waist. He was thinking about that night too, she could tell.

"I hope that I know enough of how to please you."

He sounded so earnest, but she couldn't stop herself from letting out a moan. Every moment, from the past, from the illusions that had run around her head, making her delusional, came together into a perfect horizon in the depths of his eyes.

"You don't need to…" she stuttered as his fingertips swept up higher over her sides, "I don't want to rush you."

He closed one hand over hers, turning her palm upwards. "I will never stop wanting you."

She shivered and smiled, hearing her words replayed back to her, her doubts dispelled now she was sure that he was comfortable, and ready to proceed because of his own desire. She relaxed and focused upon his feather-light caresses over her, very much wishing that she wasn't wearing so many clothes.

"Would you tell me about your dreams?"

Being temporarily lost for words, she gave a short nod of her head. His gaze was keen upon her, eager to do anything she asked of him at a second's notice.

"You're with me, like this," she smiled, her eyes captured by his. "And you kiss me. Not on my lips, but my neck."

She brushed the backs of her fingers against the same spot she spoke of while he watched intently. The ache she felt for him was driving her closer to the edge.

"It feels so good, and I don't want you to stop. But at the same time, I want…" She stops, partly to stop her breath from giving out entirely.

She can read it in his eyes, the way he's looking at her with adoration as well as such hunger, which she shares entirely. He knows what she desires, always.

Her lips curve into a smile, her hand trailing.

"You kiss me here," she skims past her throat to her collarbone, and then to her breasts. "And here."

She shudders a little, knowing that her own touch isn't half as good as the feeling of his mouth fitting against her.

He's still watching her, and she is almost unable to bear the longing that envelopes her.

"And then lower, and lower…"

She stutters the words out with hardly any energy, her head swimming. He graciously comes to her rescue and she catches sight of his profile painted in the silver starlight that slips through the window before he lowers his head, putting his lips to the slope of her neck. His hands are tangled in her hair, putting it behind her shoulder, and the careful way in which he tugs ever so slightly upon her loose tresses only adds to the euphoric sensations she feels.

He takes his time, lavishing kisses upon every inch of skin that he can find, helping her to undress, his hands far better equipped for the task. As he holds onto her and guides his lips lower she gasps, helpless murmurs of "oh, Vizh" leaving her. If she could think halfway straight she would realise that dreams paled in comparison to reality, though she always knew that was the case.

When he lowers himself to his knees in front of her, her body clothed only in starlight, she wonders what she has done to deserve someone like him. The first time was enough of a miracle; now, she has been blessed again.

The night returns, belongs to them once more. Though the stars will never fade or disappear, all they know is one another.

It will always be everything they need.

* * *

The time had come for them to leave Wakanda. Though they were welcome to stay longer it seemed right, and neither wanted it to appear that they were taking the royal family's hospitality for granted. Vision was stronger than he had ever been and Wanda was well-rested, both physically and mentally. Their stay in the country would be one that would remain long and cherished in their memories, for many reasons, and it was that which sweetened the inevitable sense of sorrow that accompanied the fact that this particular period in their lives was coming to an end.

Before they made their departure, with a jet waiting for them, they bid farewells full of gratitude to T'Challa, Queen Mother Ramonda, and Shuri, who was given special thanks for the part she had played in Vision's revival. Wanda lingered for some moments as she hugged the princess, repeating heartfelt words to convey the depth of her appreciation.

Bruce was given a similar prolonged goodbye, though it was considerably harder to hug him; instead both Wanda and Vision found themselves absorbed in his embraces. He was due to leave a couple of days after, happy to return to his life of academia and inevitable fame, which he seemed far more content with these days.

They had talked a little about where they should go on returning to America, with several options available to them. It didn't take long for them to agree on their destination being the Bartons' farm. Wanda had left rather abruptly, and though she had kept in touch with Clint, Laura and the kids, it didn't feel right to relocate so soon. It had become her home, the one place she had felt safe for a long time, and she had spoken so fondly that Vision was keen to know it for himself. When he expressed concern that there might not be enough room for him – and less overtly, that perhaps Clint would be uneasy in his presence – she quickly reassured him. She'd come to know Clint well enough to know that he was far more soft-hearted than his hardened exterior let show, especially when it came to his family.

With T'Challa's gentle observation that the sun was likely to have set before they took to the sky they made their final farewells, with a promise that they would be back sooner rather than later and with any hope not because they required T'Challa and Shuri's assistance to help them save the world, though the siblings pledged themselves willingly should they be needed.

The journey went quickly and was much more peaceful than the last one they had made together, a fact that neither of them did not observe but also one which they determined not to linger too long upon. Though the jet, kindly loaned by T'Challa, was spacious they stayed close at one another's side, where they felt most comfortable.

It was still light when they touched down not too far from the house, the late afternoon sun framing it upon the horizon. Wanda watched as Vision took in the surroundings which were new to him, sensing his tension as she kept hold of his hand in hers.

"It'll be alright," she spoke softly, squeezing his fingers gently. He smiled down at her before she lifted herself to brush her lips against his cheek. "A lot has happened since then. He'll be happy to see you, I promise."

They walked hand-in-hand towards the house, the mere feat of doing so still feeling slightly surreal but in the very best way. It gave Wanda hope for the future that seemed not so distant; that one day soon they would be walking to their own home, a picture she had dreamed of for a long time.

The door was open slightly when they approached, which struck her as a little unusual but not entirely out of the ordinary. The kids might have been off playing in the fields, though she hadn't seen sight of them nearby when they had arrived.

Nobody came to the door when they walked through into the hall, Wanda a step ahead of Vision. She looked at him with confusion and apology that there had not been a party to welcome them.

"Hello?" she called out after a minute or two, still holding onto Vision's hand. "Anybody home?"

Not a few seconds later they heard the sound of crying coming from the nearest room, Wanda's heart sinking. As much as he tried to keep it together for the family, things continued to be hard for Clint. She was the one who let him unload some of his burden, feeling that grief could not possibly touch her any deeper than she already perceived it.

When they got closer the sound altered, tempered by laughter. It became clear that Clint was not alone.

"I can't…I just can't believe…"

"I know," the other, instantly recognisable voice answered. "What did I always say? You're stuck with me, Agent Barton, whether you like it or not."

Wanda stopped herself from shrieking aloud, looking back at Vision instead.

The knock on the door was heeded, and Clint bid them to come inside, letting out another half-sob, half-laugh. When Wanda pushed it opened, they both saw what she had imagined to be the truth.

She was there, standing as clear as day, with flame hair longer than it had been the last time, green eyes and a smile that stretched across her face at the sight of the two of them.

"Natasha?"

* * *

**A/N: ...Surprise! **

**(I call Vision and Natasha rights - take that, Marvel)**

**Ukrainian (Sokovian) to English translations:**

**_Ya obitsyayu _ = I promise**

_**kokhanyy = **_**beloved**

**_ni = _no**

**_nikoly ne dumay _= never think**

**I'm certain this fic is going to bear zero resemblance to _WandaVision_, but I'm trying to slip some elements in here and there. I am very excited at the prospect of domestic!Wanda and Vision, though. (let's face it, I need six hours worth of that and forget all the other stuff)**


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

The other woman smiled wider in response to her name, almost as though it was the first time she had heard it in a long while.

Wanda's hands were covering her mouth, stifling the sobs that wanted to be drawn from her throat. She could not prevent the tears from prickling her eyes however, making Nat's form a little blurry as she came closer. Another impossibility overturned, shattered into pieces. Perhaps destruction itself had transformed in this new world into something much more forgiving.

"Nat," she uttered, her voice barely audible.

Behind Nat's shoulder Clint was wiping his fist at his eyes, his face set into a half-crumpled grin.

"It's true," the original Avenger said, her hands bracing against Wanda's arms, "you made it."

Wanda nodded, looking into the emerald of Nat's eyes before she was pulled into a hug. Sobs turned to bursts of laughter as they both realised that this was the first time they had ever hugged, and somewhat expectedly, Nat's grip was tight, even if she was slighter than previously.

She watched as Nat's grin returned upon her face, making a transformation of the spy. The internationally feared Black Widow was nowhere to be found in her demeanour; she radiated nothing but happiness.

She watched with a grin of her own as Nat's gaze fell upon her love, the green eyes widening a little but with something that was more akin to recognition than shock.

"Vision."

Wanda gravitated back towards him, her hand finding his once more.

"Miss Romanoff. It is most unexpected that we should meet again – "

"I'll say," Clint interjected from where he stood.

" – but I am very glad that the opportunity has presented itself," Vision finished what he intended to say with a smile.

"You haven't changed," Nat said after a moment, the edge of humour subtle in her tone.

"Technically, I have." He raised his free hand to the gem that resided in the centre of his forehead, which pulsed with scarlet at that very moment as if to clarify the fact, bathing the room in a distinctive red hue. "I am happy to confirm for the better."

He flexed his fingers against Wanda's, squeezing her hand in his own, and the smile burst on her face as she felt a thought of his reverberating in her mind.

For a moment or two she was too occupied in staring up at Vision, revelling in his adoring gaze upon her, to notice that Nat was beaming at the sight of them together.

"The _welcome back_ gesture I had in mind for you guys pretty much went out of the window," Clint's voice broke the serene silence.

"That's okay," Wanda smiled, her gaze flitting between the three of them. Amidst the sheer joy there was a little part of her that couldn't stop from thinking about how surreal it was. "I can make some tea?"

"You must have had a long journey," Nat said, taking a step forward to interject.

"It's fine," Wanda insisted, "it couldn't have been longer than yours."

Nat smiled back in relief as Clint took her forearm, guiding her towards the sofa.

"I could do with something stronger," Clint murmured, Nat fixing him with a lightly admonishing look that caused him to smirk, "but tea would be great."

Nat nodded her response, smiling gratefully again. Wanda knew from recent experience that Nat and Clint would need some time alone to adjust, as well as to simply make the most of the miracle that had occurred.

"Vizh, would you mind helping me?"

His eyes were soft and acquiescing upon her. "Certainly."

Warmth ran through her at Vision's gaze, him following her faithfully as she directed them towards the kitchen. The greatest part of her happy, peaceful feeling was down to him, without any question, but she also felt very happy to be back here, in the place that had felt most like home in the truest sense of the word. Looking at the mugs gathered in the cupboards, and Nate's drawings pinned upon the refrigerator, no other word or sensation could possibly come to mind at being there.

They lingered awhile in the preparation, deliberately, enjoying the time spent by themselves too. Wanda took in the way Vision looked keenly at the space around them, smiling as he observed the little details that were unique to the Bartons. After some time the tea risked tasting bitter if it was left to steep any longer, and then there was the problem of it going cold.

Wanda handed the first mug to Nat before both she and Vision joined Nat and Clint in sitting down.

"It feels kind of wrong to ask," she began, her rings clinking against her own mug that she cradled in her hands, "but…how?"

Nat pursed her lips, but smiled.

"It's not wrong," she uttered, "it might actually make more sense to me too if I say it out loud."

The three of them instinctively leaned in closer as Nat told the story of how her life was restored. The first thing she remembered was darkness being cut through by a faint red glimmer, as distant as it was possible to be, waking where she had fallen. She wasn't in any physical pain, except for a tightness that stretched across her chest. She called out, called Clint's name. Called for help. In time she was met with a sombre reply from a woman who emerged from the shadows, long dark hair contrasting with her green complexion.

"_There is no help." Her voice was flat, though not completely devoid of emotion. "Some sacrifices cannot be undone."_

The woman – who she would come to know as Gamora, the only beloved daughter of Thanos – concluded that, by the very fact that they had been reawakened to consciousness, that the devastating actions of her father had been reversed.

She felt herself surge with hope and victory, in part, even if she wasn't there to witness it with her own eyes or take part in the battle that would ensue. She knew that they would be strong enough, even if not all of the plan was successful, to defeat the monster and his army and lead the way onto a building a better world from the ruins.

Minutes seemed like hours; a few others joined them, stumbling out of the shadows, one or two falling to their knees in disbelief. When a bright flash filled the sky of Vormir, miles and miles out of reach, she knew. Still she turned to Gamora with wide eyes, reluctant to smile or even exhale lest it proved to be the cruellest trick.

"_They did it," she affirmed, "they won."_

Gamora hung her head briefly, and she touched a hand to the other woman's arm in an attempt to comfort her. Instinctively she knew that Gamora was not mourning, at least not for the father that she had lost.

It became clear all too soon that Gamora had been right; their reward was to be alive, but their fate remained the same; trapped in the abyss for the rest of eternity.

She refused to be resigned, formulating a number of plans for escape. While she was far from being even half certain that any of them would work, she had to keep the hope that there would be something. A way out that would be hard-won, but worth every inch of the fight.

She believed that her prayers had been answered not long afterwards, when she heard Steve's voice from high above. At first she suspected it might be an illusion but when she heard Red Skull replying she began to scream at the top of her lungs, so hard that her throat burned. After Clint, Steve was the best friend she had; if he knew that she was alive he wouldn't hesitate for a second to come and find her and save her, save them all.

He couldn't hear her. It was just as well, Gamora told her. If he had, then Red Skull would still have insisted upon a sacrifice. His imprisonment in return for her freedom. She slammed her knees to the ground in a fit of angry hopelessness, the abyss swallowing her cries of despair.

It was not a hopeless existence, she told herself soon afterwards. She was not alone. She had her life. She had willingly sacrificed herself so that the rest of the universe could be saved.

The months passed and, partly to her surprise, the inhabitants of the abyss on Vormir formed a small but cooperative civilisation. She found herself in the role of leader – though she did not ask for the mantle to be hers. Gamora, who had been distant and aloof, softened as the time went on and the two of them formed a bond, exchanging their stories and commiserating over the lives and loved ones they had left behind. In many ways, they were greatly alike.

A siege came. The undisturbed and barren planet was taken over, run riot upon by rebels from all corners of the galaxy. Some of them were supporters of Thanos, sent into a rage that their idol had been defeated. The abyss was a shelter, a solace from the destruction that rained down and threatened to vanquish Vormir completely, with the keeper of the Soul Stone having been slain.

That was until the planet began to crumble, the ruins falling down and filling up the abyss with the wreckage. The hope that she had kept sheltered as a flickering ember began to die out.

In what she thought were her true final moments she grasped the hand of another unfortunate inhabitant with one of her own, and with the other held onto Gamora. She closed her eyes, seeing colour come out of the blackness, and focusing on the small semblance of peace that was held within.

Even in her partly meditative state she could not block out the loud rush that sounded way above, the vibration that rocked the ground they stood upon. Gamora's hand tightened in her own and her voice rose, the most animated and hopeful it had ever been.

"_They're here," she said, sounding as though she were on the verge of tears, "they made it back."_

It began before she could even question, and she knew the lightning that tore through the darkness from anywhere. A smile filled her face as the strikes came relentlessly, destroying the abyss and setting its inhabitants free. Vormir came into view and so too did their band of saviours, a couple of whom she recognised as well as her fellow Avenger – or, as he was now, an _Asgardian of the Galaxy_.

She took Thor's hand as he stretched it out to her, leaving Stormbreaker lying at his feet. Though the electricity was still flowing through him she felt no pain, her other emotions being too strong. She watched as Gamora ran towards the man who seemed to lead the troop, the two of them staring in disbelief at one another for a moment or two before falling into an embrace. The raccoon she somehow remembered as being called Rocket crowed at the pair to _"cut it out, there's no rooms in this goddamn place. And Groot's still too young to witness that kinda thing,"_ which was followed by a resounding cry of _"I am Groot!"_

"Thor asked where I wanted to go, and I said here," Nat said, looking towards Clint. "It was getting late when they dropped me, and I didn't want to just rock up. I was scared, really, that things hadn't changed. But I was awake when the sun came up the next morning, and I saw them…Cooper and Lila, and little Nate holding on to Laura's hand. I burst into tears. I was sure that Nate heard me from all the way over."

"It wouldn't surprise me," Clint exclaimed, his lips curving into a smirk, "we don't know how, but Laura and I could swear he's got some kind of power."

"I stayed in the barn for a couple of nights, again I didn't want to feel like I was just crashing into everything. I kind of wanted to run away. But I know that he'd never forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive," Clint cut in, taking hold of Nat's hand. "God, I'm so glad you're back, Tasha. I was starting to lose my mind."

Her eyes glimmered as she smiled. They stayed upon Clint for a few moments, before she looked in front of her.

"And everyone came back? Everyone is safe?"

Wanda nodded to affirmatively answer Nat's question. "It was close."

"Stark gave us a scare," Clint added, "trust him to pull the dramatics."

"And you too, Vision," Nat's voice wavered and one hand was braced against her stomach, as if she were in pain. "It's _so_ good to see you again."

"The feeling is mutual, Miss Romanoff. Wanda and I will relate the story to you another time. If it is not rude of me to comment upon it, you look tired."

As Nat managed a small appeasing smile, Clint stood up, still holding onto her hand.

"That's what saving the fate of the universe will do to someone. Come on," he addressed Nat solely, neither Vision nor Wanda thinking any less of him for focusing upon his oldest and dearest friend, "let's get you settled. You're gonna need your energy for when Laura and the kids get back."

The thought made Nat smile wider, and she nodded her head in assent as Clint helped her back to her feet. She bid them both a farewell for now before she went from the room, Clint accompanying her every step of the way. Wanda could hear them murmuring to one another, trying to block out the specifics, not wanting to intrude.

Otherwise the house was quiet, without the presence of the kids who were always making some kind of noise. The only sound that could be heard after a few moments was the remainder of the tea being poured from the pot that they had left on the table.

When that stopped, her sobs started up.

"Wanda," Vision was at her side immediately, one hand upon her back and the other resting upon hers, balled in her lap. After a few moments of letting her simply cry he asked, "is everything alright?"

"I don't know why…" she started, her voice hitching as she brought one hand to dab at her streaming eyes. Vision's gaze was soft, concerned for her, and she managed a strange half-smile to reassure him that she was okay. "This all seems like a dream, like it's too good to be true, somehow."

She couldn't quite describe the fear that she had – not even to him, whom she could tell anything and everything to. It lay at the back of her mind, taunting her in quiet moments, in the midst of such incredible happiness. Telling her that none of this was real; that somehow, though she couldn't understand _how_, it was all of her own creation.

She felt a burning begin within her head and her stomach, the clawing sensation of panic inexplicably rising to get a hold of her, in a place where she was nothing other than safe.

Vision's hands were gentle upon her, now settled upon either side of her face. Already the terrible feelings were beginning to abate, as rapidly as they had started up.

"It isn't a dream," he told her as he looked into her eyes. There was not a reason that she could conceive of not to believe him. "You are here, and so am I. And so are Miss Romanoff and Mr Barton."

Her tears came to a stop as she rested her head against his shoulder, her arms clasping around him fiercely as he held her in a tender and soothing embrace.

All she could hear was his voice, as calm and comforting to her as the centre of his mind.

"I am here, Wanda," he said, more than once. "And I will never leave you again."

* * *

It was rather cosy having three additional members of the household when the house wasn't really that big to begin with. Nat took up residence with Lila in her room, which the middle Barton child was thrilled about. Clint wasn't as happy about the idea of Wanda and Vision not so much sharing a room as sharing the one bed within it. Vision offered several times to occupy the sofa, much to Wanda's chagrin – she didn't like the idea of being without him during the night, even if her sleep had been largely dreamless of late. Both Laura and Nat came to her defence, making the case that she was not a teenager but a responsible adult, capable of making her own decisions without any well-meaning but ultimately misguided intentions.

The kids loved having 'Auntie Nat' around and it made Wanda happy to see them so full of joy. Despite everything she had once said about not being good with children she was an absolute natural with the three of them, and obviously adored them. She spent most of her time catering to their whims, not complaining when they asked her to do a thousand different things, sometimes at once. Laura was the one to intervene, calling upon her sons and daughter to go easy.

It would have been understandable if Vision had got put into the role of onlooker, being the only one who the kids weren't previously familiar with, as well as being disadvantaged by Nat's obvious popularity. Thankfully neither Clint nor Laura had raised their children to take such a view.

Nate took a shine to Vision immediately, eagerly sitting by his side on the sofa and following him around like a shadow. All Vision needed to do was look at the youngest Barton child or say his name with trademark softness and Nate was full of smiles, his bright eyes shining. Nat teased Vision over the affection that little Nate fostered towards him, a pout on her face as she remarked that he had "_stolen her baby away"_.

Cooper and Lila took a little more time to warm up, which was understandable given that they were older and their capacity to be wary had kicked in. They were Clint's children, after all, inheriting something of their father's suspicious nature. Still it only took a couple of days – and a whole lot of questions, which Vision was incredibly patient in answering – for them to be at ease.

As the weeks passed Vision found himself to be in demand with all three of the Barton children. When they weren't clamouring for Nat's attention they sought him out, mainly one by one or as a pair but occasionally all together as a troop. Wanda quipped that she felt left out – something which, even though it was meant as a joke, disheartened Vision, who was quick to involve her in whatever activity they were partaking in. The five of them could spend hours out in the field, playing baseball or hide and seek – the latter a game largely for the benefit of Nate, but which they all found to be highly enjoyable.

Wanda sat at the kitchen table, half-reading and half-watching contentedly as Vision and Nate sat close, heads bent over a piece of paper, Nate doodling away with his crayons. Every now and then Vision looked up from the absorbing task and caught her gaze, smiling before Nate noticed that he had looked away and tugged upon the sleeve of his pullover, directing his attention back to the picture that was being formed in front of them.

"Why don't you have dinner with us, Vision?" Lila asked from the other end of the table, twirling her half-full glass of water in her hand. "Don't you like the stuff we eat?"

"I'm sure that I would find your mother's cooking very appetising, Lila. But the truth of the matter is that I have never eaten any type of food."

"But you cook stuff for Wanda."

"That is correct. I find cooking to be a relaxing and satisfying pastime."

Wanda looked up from her book again, smiling towards him.

"I do not require the nourishment that humans do from consuming food or drink. I do, however, enjoy sitting at the table with you all as you partake in your mealtimes."

Lila was quiet for a few moments as she absorbed Vision's answer. "That sucks. You don't know what anything tastes like."

"My mind can produce simulations of particularly strong flavours, so I have some notions."

"It's not the same, though."

Wanda hid her smirk behind the pages that were open in front of her. Lila could be quite the firebrand, even with Vision's patient and logical explanations.

"Could you try eating something?"

"No," Cooper steamed ahead, "it'd fry his circuits."

"That's not quite how my system works, Cooper." Vision smiled at the eldest of the Barton children as Nate continued to move the red crayon back and forth rapidly upon the paper. "I might not _need_ to do certain things but it does not mean that I find it impossible, or that it will harm me in any way. I regularly go to sleep at night and partake in physical activity for the enjoyment of doing so. I do not envisage that testing food would cause me any significant problems."

Wanda felt a pang of sorrow at Vision's words. She had successfully, after quite a bit of persuading, got him to try her cinnamon-flavoured hot chocolate as well as some French toast and ice cream during their times in Europe together. They were not particularly important occasions, but given that the instances were so out of the ordinary for Vision she had hoped that the memories would have been some of the first to return to him.

Lila was very pleased at this outcome, sitting up straighter in her chair. "Ooh, I know what you can try first. Pizza!"

Cooper pulled a face at his sister's suggestion. "That's boring. You'd like tacos a lot better."

"Nuh-uh," Lila replied before Vision could get a chance. "Pizza is the best."

"Tacos!" Cooper responded.

"Pizza!"

"Tacos!"

"Pizzaaaaaaa!"

"Tac-ooooooo-s!"

Before the exchange could go on much longer, their parents entered the room.

"Hey, we heard a lot of fuss going on, as well raised voices," Clint said, giving disapproving looks to both Lila and Cooper, "you know we don't use those, especially not in company."

"Sorry, Dad," Lila murmured. "We were just giving Vision some ideas of what food he could eat for the first time."

"I see. Well, in my opinion you can't go wrong with ribs. But that is just my opinion."

"And did either of you ask your brother what he thinks?" Laura enquired.

"He's just a baby, Mom," Cooper said.

"Cooper – "

"Excuse me, Laura, but I would be very interested in hearing Nathaniel's opinion," Vision interjected, smiling first at Laura and then towards Nate. "What do you think I should eat, Nathaniel?"

On hearing Vision's question Nate raised his head, his cheeks filling with a smile.

"Cookies!"

Clint, Laura and Wanda chuckled at the answer, one which wasn't at all surprising.

"I think that's a pretty great idea, baby boy," Laura affirmed, placing a kiss on the top of Nate's head. "I haven't baked in so long, but I think we've got enough to make a batch. And it is a very important occasion. Any of you want to help me out?"

"Me!" Nate shouted, raising both hands in the air.

"I do too," Lila chimed in.

"How about you, Wanda?"

"Well, I've never baked before," Wanda replied, a flush colouring her cheeks as she felt Vision's eyes upon her, "but, sure, I can give it a try."

She rolled up the sleeves of her plaid shirt in anticipation as Laura started to gather the utensils and ingredients from the cupboards. Her inexperience wasn't going to stop her from taking part, certainly not in this circumstance.

When they were ready – which took less time than she expected them to – the whole family, including Nat but minus Clint, who said he was "going to give the poor guy some space", crowded around the table to watch Vision pluck a warm cookie from the plateful. He savoured it slowly and thoughtfully, his lips curving into a satisfied smile when he finished the first bite.

He ended up eating several more, which Laura considered fine as he wouldn't be eating dinner. The rest of them, however, were limited to one each before the main meal, even if Lila tried to sneak out a couple and was quick to explain that at least one was for her little brother before she placed them back with a watchful gaze from her Auntie Nat.

After dinner the family gathered in the sitting room, listening to records that Clint put on the player. As Laura worked on some sewing and Nat kept the kids amused with stories of The Avengers, Wanda and Vision sat close together on the sofa, just soaking up the atmosphere.

"Uh, Vision?" Cooper perched himself on the arm of the sofa after a little while. "My science class project is next week, and I wondered…" He scratched at the back of his neck, shifting his feet on the floor. "Well, I wondered if you might help me out."

Wanda found herself smiling wide, her arm resting upon Vision's torso as she was curled against his side.

"Certainly, Cooper," Vision replied, and she could hear the pride in his voice. "I consider myself privileged to be furnished with knowledge from both Mr Stark and Doctor Banner, as well as Mr Stark's assistant JARVIS, so I hope that I can be of considerable help with whatever problem you need to solve."

"Uh, well…the thing is…" Cooper stumbled, "…I was kinda hoping that you would be my project."

"Cooper!" Laura exclaimed from her seat. "I would have thought that you would know how disrespectful that is."

Already uncomfortable to begin with, the eldest Barton child turned even more so, shoulders hunching and cheeks turning red.

"But I don't mean anything bad," he started to explain after a few moments of silence, his gaze darting between his mother and Vision and Wanda. "Vision's just really cool. We've been studying vibranium and I thought…well, nobody else knows anyone who is part-vibranium. It would be pretty bad-ass to show everyone what he can do."

"First off, we don't use words like that, especially not in front of your sister and brother," Laura frowned, stilling her hands. "And more importantly, Vision is our friend. He deserves much more respect, even if I know that you mean well."

"Thank you for your kind words, Laura," Vision said with a gracious smile, "I am very humbled by Cooper's admiration."

"You're sweet, Vision, but he still needs to apologise to you." Laura turned her head to look to her husband. "Don't you think so, Clint?"

He was a little caught off-guard but turned quickly and bowed his head. "Absolutely. You heard your mom, Coop."

"I'm sorry, Vision," Cooper said, full of contrition.

"That's quite alright, Cooper."

Wanda snugged her arms around Vision, resting her head against his shoulder as the atmosphere lightened again. It was hard to feel self-conscious when everyone was absorbed in their own activities and she felt so comfortable, so much so that she could have easily started to drift off.

"Uh, Wanda?"

Cooper's voice, smaller than usual, brought her attention back, and she opened her eyes again to look at the boy, still balanced on the sofa arm.

"Yes, Cooper?"

It took so long for him to reply that she was slightly worried that he was going to say something she hadn't really wanted to hear.

"I…uh…don't suppose you might want to be my science project instead?"

She chuckled before Clint could step in, crossing the room to place a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Kid," he said, trying hard not to bust into laughter himself, "you gotta know when to knock it off."

* * *

Wanda rolled her spine as she walked up the stairs. She had found herself caught unexpectedly in the middle of a fight between Cooper and Lila and did her best to play peacemaker. Lila took her brother's unintended words to heart and ran off crying, so Wanda took it upon herself to try her best to placate the girl, remembering the occasions when she would argue with Pietro. It took over an hour sitting out in the field to calm Lila down and a little longer to get the siblings to reconcile.

She knew how tiring it was to be the one doing the fighting, but she hadn't counted on the energy that was required to bring the little war to an end.

The weight that she'd taken upon her shoulders on behalf of the Barton siblings was lifted when she pushed open the door to her room and discovered Vision sitting upon the bed. He looked so formal, the dress shirt and tie peeking out from the collar of his navy blue pullover, but also completely at ease. He sat with such stillness that she wondered whether she might have interrupted him in the middle of a meditation.

"This is where you've been hiding."

He smiled at her, so beautiful and pure, as she gravitated towards him, her knees feeling a little weak in light of the way his brilliant blue eyes were staring at her. It was a good thing that the bed wasn't far away and was ready in wait to cushion her landing next to him.

"On this occasion I am not doing so from Nathaniel."

She let out a light laugh at his quip, which caused him to grin too.

"Those kids are great, but they can be a lot to deal with at times. I have new-found admiration for Laura and Clint. Especially the amount of patience they have."

She noticed that he hummed in reply but didn't say anything else, staring ahead of him.

She began to worry again.

Her chin propped on his shoulder as she shuffled her legs up, circling her arms loosely about his middle. His head turned towards her and she was happy and relieved to hear him issuing the softest of sighs as she pressed her lips lightly to the slope of his neck.

"Is it too much?" she asked gently.

He had seemed to be coping well with being inducted into the Barton household but he wasn't especially likely to complain. She did wonder sometimes whether she had been a little rash, when the situation they found themselves in now was considerably different to the peaceful time they had spent in Wakanda.

"No," he answered confidently. Wanda lifted her head so that she could look directly into his eyes, though she kept her hands steepled upon his shoulder. "It makes me think of the compound, before the divisions happened."

He paused for a few moments, contemplating, and she found herself enraptured by simply watching him.

"Yet it is different too. Markedly so. I suppose the presence of the children is the cause."

"Mmmm," she hummed in agreement, absentmindedly stroking the fingers of one hand down his arm, letting them rest at the inside of his elbow.

"I like it," he continued, sounding yet more assured than a mere minute or two ago. "It feels very nice to be part of a family unit, even if it is on the edges. And even when there is disharmony. Clint and Laura are very good at solving it with minimal emotional injury caused to anyone."

"I suppose it helps that Nat is around too. I never want to be on her bad side." Wanda smiled, understanding the longing that he had. She felt it too, had done so for a long time. "You know that whenever it does get to be a lot we can just come up here and be quiet. Just us."

He nodded, but also responded verbally to her. "Yes. I am very glad of that."

"Me too."

She lay her head upon his shoulder and they were quiet for a few moments, enjoying their little oasis of calm.

"Have you been playing?"

Wanda smiled as she looked to where the guitar was in its stand upon the floor.

"A little, but not for a while. Cooper was keen to learn so I took him through some of the things I know well enough. I think he was trying to impress a girl he likes in school, but I haven't heard him talk about her since we got here. I guess he's moved on."

Her thoughts of Pietro were especially vivid just then. During their teenage years in Sokovia he would chase a different girl every week – or at least, it felt like it – and each was heralded as so much more intriguing than the last.

"I'm not very good anyway, so it's probably for the best."

"Oh, that's not true." He was always quick to jump to her defence when she was putting herself down, as she was still inclined to do every now and then. "I very much enjoyed listening when you used to play in your room at the compound."

"I only knew two songs in full," she laughed.

"I can't say that I noticed. I was too absorbed in the music," he replied with a smile that made her heart flutter. "Would you mind playing something now? That is, only if you would like to."

She leant heavier against his side, catching his gaze and staying entranced for a few moments before she pushed herself off the bed, steps trailing over the floor.

"For you," she said with a smile, as she took the neck of the guitar in her hands.

She noted that it felt lighter than she remembered as she settled it against her, her hands curving to locate the chords and pluck at the strings. She was aware that she felt more nervous than she would if she was simply playing for her own amusement, yet at the same time she felt proud that Vision wanted to hear her play.

The music came faster than she expected, the fingers of both hands moving fluidly. She didn't play any song in particular but freestyled, as she did the last time she had picked the instrument up, before he had returned to her. Her hands recalled that time as much as her heart did, and she played out the chords that had become familiar to her, closing her eyes against the melancholy melody.

She stopped rather abruptly when she met Vision's gaze again, smiling bashfully and setting the instrument back on the floor, her hands twisting in her lap.

"That was wonderful," he told her, his sincerity unmistakable. "The tune seemed rather sad."

"I only played when you were…_away_," she said, going back to her spot next to him on the bed. "My emotions influenced what I came out with."

He looked at her with sorrow shadowing his otherwise serene expression. She was keen to chase it away, knowing she had been the cause of such sombre feeling, so brought one of her hands up to cup his cheek, tracing her thumb against the lines there.

"I still love to listen to you," he uttered while she issued her tender caresses to his synthetic skin. She registered the shift in her facial muscles as he smiled towards her. "You are incredibly talented, my love."

"I like it when you call me that." She had shifted around and lifted her legs onto the edge of the bed, so that she was effectively straddling his lap, her arms draped around his neck. "I _really_ like it."

His hands held her waist securely as she leaned forward, pressing her lips against his and finding his mouth welcoming and happily pliable. They shared a few kisses and tender touches, both aware that their chances to do so had become decidedly less frequent. It was with that thought in mind, and also that she hadn't closed the door completely, that she didn't push him back against the mattress but instead peppered his cheeks with small kisses, smiling against his skin before she eased back against the air, knowing that his hands were supporting her.

"It is the truth," he replied to her, belatedly.

"You know what you said about being on the edges?" Her eyes felt wider as she looked at him, skimming her hands over his cheeks again. "Well, you know that I'm your family, right? Now and always."

"Of course," he said. "And I am yours too. Not that – that is, I wouldn't want you to think I could replace any that you had lost."

She smiled at him, always so thoughtful and considerate of her.

"You're one of a kind, Vizh. Just perfect."

"I am not sure about that – "

"Please," her smile broke into a little giggle, hands smoothing across his strong shoulders, "take my word for it, just for now."

He brought her forward for another deeper kiss, which sent a distinct thrill running through her. Not for the first time she found herself very much wishing that they were alone, just the two of them, as they had been many times before.

"Do you think that perhaps we should go downstairs?" His words broke into her thoughts, a little sooner than she would have hoped. "It may be unwise to leave the children to their own devices for too long."

She smiled as she held onto him a little tighter. "I left them with Nat, and given her history I'd say that she's more than capable of keeping them in line."

* * *

Somehow she was more nervous than she had been the first time she stood in this very spot, beneath the eaves of the porch. She justified the twisting feeling in her stomach by considering that it was on behalf of Vision. Even then, it hardly made sense. They had been in touch with the inhabitants of the house several times, through the methods of the most advanced technological communication, and not once during all of those occasions had there been any awkwardness or reminders of what had gone before, be it confrontation (on her part) or concealment (on his). It was as if everything was beginning afresh, forged with a deeper understanding.

It was one thing to conduct meetings over screens and with projections.

It was quite another to come face to face.

They had made the journey by themselves and, more than once, Wanda had provided him with several get-out clauses. It would be fine if they were to turn back. There would be other opportunities. Perhaps it would have made more sense if they had brought Nat or Clint to accompany them.

He was far more courageous than she, though he would never let her say so.

Even now, as they stood in front of the door, she couldn't stop herself from offering another.

_We don't need to do this_, she sent the message clear to his mind, the scarlet energy of hers binding them together. _You don't have to do this._

Even with bridges built she couldn't shake the few remaining remnants of defiance that she harboured, and would likely always do. She was very clear on the fact that Vision had nothing to prove and no need to atone. If the situation hadn't been so bad then it would have made far more sense for him to be the one coming to visit them, making a heartfelt plea – whether or not that included falling to his knees and begging forgiveness.

His mind answered hers calmly, and she was reminded again of his complete goodness, his soul that remained pure despite all of the suffering he had been put through.

_It has been a long time coming. I am very glad that you are with me._

His hand reached for hers, though they had not relinquished their contact for very long.

She took it without hesitation, smiling from her eyes as she did so. She understood what he meant and knew that their secret had only been one because of his concern for her, not because he thought he was breaking the rules or showing disloyalty.

She leaned back to allow him to ring the doorbell, feeling the hand that held hers tense in the aftermath.

The door appeared to be opened by an invisible presence, though the noise that was quickly made alerted them to who was responsible.

"Wanda!" Morgan squealed, her excitement spilling over in the way she held her arms out either side of her, as well as her stomping on the spot where she stood, almost vigorous enough to cause a small earthquake.

"Hey, sonyachne svitlo," Wanda smiled in reply, the native endearment leaving her lips in a rush. "You've gotten so big since the last time I saw you. But I bet everyone's telling you that, right?"

Morgan gave a shrug of her shoulders, putting an open hand to her messy hair. In the next second she was enthused once more.

"Guess what? Daddy got me a bunny rabbit! Come and see."

The little girl reached for her hand, getting ready to march them both off.

"In a minute or two," Wanda answered, biting back laughter at Morgan's display. She had definitely inherited a lot from her father. "Don't tell me you forgot. Someone really important is here to see you."

She glanced up at Vision next to her, knowing that Morgan's gaze would follow.

"Hello, Morgan." His smile was easy and bigger than usual, thanks to the little girl in front of them, _real_ and no longer contained by the confines of a screen. "I am very happy to meet you at last."

Morgan was silent for what seemed much longer to them both, her dark eyes going wide. The whisper she let out was just a touch louder than the wind, but Wanda heard it instantly and the little girl's reaction filled her heart to the brim.

"_Vision_."

Only seconds passed between Morgan uttering his name and her running forward, throwing her arms around his legs. It took him a moment to react, being rather taken aback by Morgan's rapturous reception, but he quickly crouched to her height, allowing Morgan to shift and hug him properly.

" I…um…"

Vision stumbled over his words as Morgan clung to him, her arms fastened to his neck. Her grip was like superglue, and though he was a little reluctant he had not much choice but to hoist the girl into the air. Little Miss Stark showed no trepidation in being held in his arms, lolling against him as if it had happened a thousand times before.

Wanda felt herself grinning at the sight of the two of them, so natural.

"Thank you, Morgan," he finally said, the sound of his breathing audible. "This is quite an honour, seeing as I am really a stranger to you."

"You're not a stranger," Morgan exclaimed, and Wanda saw that she frowned slightly, her brow lowering and mouth jutting out, in a characteristic way that reminded her of Tony – and Vision himself, in a more subtle way. "You're my big brother. Daddy said so."

It wasn't long before Tony and Pepper came through into the hallway, smiles on both of their faces at the scene of Morgan and Vision's first face-to-face meeting.

"Someone's made herself at home," Tony quipped, before pointing to the floor, "climb down, Morguna."

"Dad!"

"Oh, I see how it is. What, did you age like ten years overnight?"

"Maybe," Morgan giggled, hiding her face.

"Well if you're going to be a monkey then you gotta go to Mommy. We respect personal space in this house."

"Okay," Morgan sighed a little, but went willingly into Pepper's arms. "Can I sit next to you later, Vision?"

"Of course," Vision replied with a smile.

Tony tweaked her nose and she giggled, laying her head on Pepper's shoulder.

"Maximoff," he exclaimed, leaning on his cane as he walked forward, "I had no doubt that you were going to save the day. You're gonna work on me next, right?"

Wanda was momentarily lost for words, glancing up towards Vision and then back to Tony. "Um, I guess I can try…"

"Don't listen to him, Wanda," Pepper said, smiling as Morgan wrapped her arms yet tighter about her. "You don't have to do anything else."

"I'm kinda past redemption anyway."

He smirked at her, quickly straightening himself when his gaze fell upon Vision.

Wanda felt her heart seize in the small silence that ran between the two, her right hand held in Vision's left, even as he stepped forward closer towards Tony.

"Look at you," Tony began, his tone stripped of its natural bravado, quieter than either of them were used to. "It's almost like you just came fresh out of that cradle."

He smiled at the memory, all at once distant and as vivid as if it had been lived yesterday.

"I'm sorry."

The weight of the words that were uttered echoed around them. Wanda had to close her eyes to let a couple of moments pass, thinking of how alone Vision had been before the worst had happened, though she was grateful to hear Stark's sincere apology.

"I failed you," he exhaled a heavy sigh, his eyes straight upon Vision, "to every degree possible."

Vision absorbed the words of his creator with quiet calm and a forgiveness that did not need to be spoken.

"I don't see that to be the case. I was as much at fault." Vision stared ahead, past Tony and into the distance, contemplating for a minute, before their gazes connected once more. "Really, it is quite the opposite. If you had not taken the action you did then the universe may have well plunged back to ruin, meaning that I certainly would not have been revived."

He took the time to look to his side at Wanda, offering her silent thanks for his fate.

"I've always liked your optimistic outlook," Tony said, lightness back in his voice. He lowered his head for a moment, nodding when he brought it back up. "Okay. Let's agree to not talk about the past. From this point, we only go forward. New beginnings."

"I do like the sound of that," Vision agreed.

A smile came upon Stark's face, lighting it up. He moved with more vigour than Wanda had seen since she had returned, throwing his arms around Vision. His expression couldn't be fully judged from such an angle, and especially not given Vision's height, but the trace of tears were detectable in his eyes.

They emerged from the embrace with ease, Wanda's own eyes glossy from the sight she had beheld.

Tony clapped a hand against Vision's shoulder, smile firmly back in place.

"Welcome home."

* * *

**A/N: Ukrainian (Sokovian) to English:**

**_sonyachne svitlo _= sunlight**

**Essentially, this fic is about Vision getting all of the love from everyone because he deserves it.**

**Thor is my favourite OG Avenger, but I don't have much of a role for him at the moment (aside from being Nat's rescuer, though that's no small thing). Wanda and Thor are the two characters who have been through the most, in my opinion, so I'm going to try and find a way in for him somewhere...**


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7_

Vision had a special appreciation for the current time of day. Lying with his form prone and perfectly still, observing the slowly emerging light as it inched into the room through the small gap in the curtains and rose up to the ceiling, he contemplated the several reasons why this should be.

The primary and most compelling was currently lying close by his side, the rhythm of her breathing indicating that she was in a fairly deep sleep.

He turned his head upon the pillow to better regard Wanda in her state of slumber, aware of the smile that widened upon his face as he watched her. Her own face was half-hidden by her loose hair, the rest of which cascaded across the pillow on which she lay. She had returned to the dark brown shade that had been familiar from the earliest days of his existence and the time in which they had become firm friends, having spent the somewhat laborious process of dying her hair the previous week. It was a natural decision and not one, she insisted, that had been influenced by the welcome return of Miss Romanoff.

For his own part, he did not mind which colour she chose to display; physical appearance was of little concern, an aspect which Wanda had reinforced to him several times. However he did conclude that this particular shade suited her very well.

One of her hands lay close to her head, fingers curled into her palm. Her other arm was stretched across her body and the bed, towards where he was positioned, though they were not currently touching. The memory of physical sensation at touching her skin reverberated beneath his fingertips, growing stronger the longer he thought about such contact. The same was true for the tingling and soft buzz he felt in his head on recalling kissing her. Far from being unsettling he found the sensations to be intoxicating in the most enthralling of manners. His body and mind was racked by craving, which he did not and would not contemplate acting upon whilst she was sleeping. Though he had not the true method of comparison, he likened the intensity of feeling of what it might be like if a human was starved of oxygen.

With her eyelids closed, but not screwed shut tightly – as he recalled from the times he had witnessed her experiencing particularly distressing nightmares, when he would lie at her side upon her bed and firmly _outside_ of the covers she lay underneath – and her mouth open slightly to let out soft huffs of breath, she looked incredibly peaceful. To observe how serene she was in her sleeping state, untroubled by less than pleasant dreams or worries that may occupy her while she was awake, delighted Vision deeply.

His thoughts drifted for a moment to the time shortly after his reawakening in Wakanda. After several days spent adjusting to his surroundings, as well as his consciousness, Wanda had approached him, dressed in her nightwear. The bashful smile upon her face and flush of colour in the apples of her cheeks endeared him profoundly. Her invitation to him to share her bed did not seem as monumental to him as it perhaps should have done, given Wanda's reactions. They were mere flashes and fragments, nothing that he was able to piece together with any clear uniformity or certain recollection, but he certainly did remember in some form a number of beds in a series of rooms, the one constant being that he and Wanda were nestled within them, very often lying in the same embrace.

He drifted further, until settling on a particular phrase that he had known several of the people he considered himself _close_ to to have uttered, including both Clint and Laura in the time they had spent residing at the Bartons' home. Given his preferences, he supposed that he was what they called 'a morning person'. There was a quality which these emergent hours contained which seemed both elusive and deeply nourishing. Something precious and filled with wonder, about not only his own existence but that of other beings and the world, the _universe_, at large. In the quiet and calm he could roam far and wide within the plains of his mind, choosing to explore from one place to the next or focus very closely on a certain thought or feeling.

Usually it gave him exhilaration and peace almost in tandem, along with profound satisfaction. From all that he had learned about humankind and the ways in which they searched for knowledge as well as recreation, he thought of it as being a kind of meditation in which he discovered more about who he was, as opposed through the depths of JARVIS' memory banks, the components of what had been the Mind Stone, now replicated as close in structure to the original as it was possible to create, and even the distant imprints of Ultron.

Yet in the past week – perhaps yet even longer, subconsciously - he had found himself troubled, and the time of day that was typically revered had become characterised by an uncomfortable restlessness which affected him mentally, physically and emotionally.

He extricated himself with the utmost care and heightened awareness of his movements, employing a degree of levitation in the process. He was very keen to ensure that he did not disturb Wanda from her sleep in the act of getting up, especially as the dimensions of the bed were quite narrow – certainly for the occupancy of two beings, which he could not have imagined was what this particular bed was designed for.

She made a murmuring sound before turning her body deeper into the bed. Vision stayed for as long as he needed to deem that she was still soundly slumbering before making his departure.

He did not intend to go anywhere further than the kitchen, imagining that being within the lower level of the house would sufficiently help to adjust his thinking. He expected to be alone in his wakefulness, and as such, was temporarily surprised to find another member of the household already up, standing rather than sitting at the counter.

Far from being perturbed that he was not alone after all, he found himself being glad for her presence, particularly as he considered that, despite sharing the house for a number of weeks, they had not had the opportunity to spend any meaningful time together.

"Miss Ro- Natasha."

She smiled at his correction in addressing her as she turned around to face him.

"Morning, Vision."

"Good morning," he echoed her sentiment. Though he considered it rather impolite to notice – and he would certainly not vocalise the thought to Natasha herself – he could not fail to recognise that her eyes were heavy, indicating that she had slept little. "Although it is very early, so I suppose that most other people would not currently categorise it as such."

She let out a short laugh. "I guess not."

Vision regarded Natasha as she combed her hair, which was also loose at the present moment, with her fingers. On finishing that action she then stretched her arms at either side of her, arching her back and rising on her toes while she did so.

"I woke up at about three and couldn't get back to sleep, so I figured why not get up?"

"If you would rather I went elsewhere – I do not wish to intrude."

She shook her head whilst folding her arms. He knew that such a gesture was typically one of defence, but it did not seem that Natasha was employing it for that reason; rather, it was a purely instinctive action.

"This house is as much yours as it is mine." He found himself rather intrigued by her line of thinking. Her mouth moved into a welcoming smile. "I'd like the company."

"Thank you. I am glad of that."

He considered that perhaps _company_ could possibly help ease the disquiet of his mind, as opposed to being left alone to ruminate, and spending time with Natasha might prove to be very beneficial, indeed.

"Would you like some tea? Or, depending on whether you would rather begin the day properly, some coffee?" Vision saw that Natasha was a little perplexed by his offer, and smiled. "Despite my not consuming either beverage, I have been assured that my attempts at making them are more than satisfactory. Wanda does comment that I am particularly skilled at making tea, and I recall often making coffee for Mr Stark when the Avengers compound was operational."

"I hope that Tony didn't just treat you like his personal servant." Natasha's tone of voice was concerned.

"Oh, not at all. I would have liked to have spent a great deal more _quality time_, I believe is the phrase, with him, from all I can remember of the time before everything –" He trailed off instinctively, not wishing to cause any emotional upset to Natasha, as well as still configuring the gaps in his memory. "But happily, we now have the opportunity to explore that which we had not previously, for a number of reasons, in our relationship."

She seemed satisfied by his reply, nodding her head and staring slightly to the left of his own gaze.

"Then coffee would be really good."

He was happy to put his mind to another use, aside from the fretting he had appeared to have fallen into without any reasonable methods of escape. Remaining wary of the other members of the household he went through the process making as little noise as possible, although the escalating aroma was not something that could be avoided.

When he had finished he saw that Natasha had moved onto the porch, taking a seat upon the steps there. On hearing him come out too she shuffled and gestured for him to sit down beside her, which he did once he had passed the cup into her hands.

The sun was not fully risen in the sky, but the light that had emerged was especially clear, casting a gleam upon the landscape which was striking. Even from a distance everything seemed to stand both in its individual space as well as within the larger scene; nothing was out of place.

"Sorry," Natasha began, hardly intrusive as Vision continued to consider how well-constructed the earth appeared to be, "I don't know quite how it works with you and sleeping, and whether this is usual for you."

"There's no need for you to apologise," he reassured, turning his gaze towards her, "I am attuned to rising early, but I don't always stray from the room which has effectively become Wanda's and my own. Often I read, or remain there with my thoughts. Wanda is not what is commonly called a 'morning person', but I do not mind being alone at this time of day. Usually, I find it invigorating."

"I get that. My body clock is all kinds of messed up, goes with the territory. There is definitely something to be said for the time before most of the world is awake, aside from the birds and the other little things we don't see. Something special."

He watched as she lifted the mug to her lips, taking a slow sip and looking out over the view before them.

"Almost like a miracle has happened overnight."

Her words came as the wheels rather than the catalyst, giving the courage that he required to speak up and attach some sort of logic to the static which occupied his mind at present. He knew that he had previously got on well with Natasha; indeed, next to Wanda, she had been the one to pay him most considered attention, offering understanding and empathy to his condition. They seemed to share an impetus to the same goal, which was to keep peace and harmony, not merely amongst the Avengers but to the population at large.

Perhaps this shared aspect of their personalities had a part to play in making him feel safe, but he understood that it was their shared experience which likely made the real contribution.

"May I ask you something, Natasha?"

Her eyes landed upon him once more, widening as though she already had knowledge of what he was to say. "Of course. Any time."

He smiled a little to acknowledge that he was grateful for her generosity, both of time and emotional capacity.

"I have been giving more thought recently to all that has happened, and trying to – well, I'm not sure that 'quantify' is the right word to use, all things considered." He noticed that she smiled softly, which put him at a degree of greater ease. "Of course I am immensely thankful to have been revived, and more than that, that all that had been destroyed without reason was returned to life. Yet I cannot help from question, as much as it pains me to do so."

It wounded him even now, as he attempted to put what was unfathomable into words, let alone words which could be correctly interpreted and perhaps even be empathised with. He certainly did not want to give the impression that the tyrant's line of thinking was a rational one, yet some part of him wanted to believe that Thanos was not entirely lacking in compassion.

He felt it necessary to move his thoughts away from the specifics of the situation, in order to better understand what he was grappling with.

"I recall something Captain Rogers said once after a mission that did not go as planned; that it is not up to us to make everything right. Indeed, that it would be an immense burden to shoulder all of the time."

The voice of the former Captain Rogers rung clear for him, particularly so in the last few days. _We can't come to the rescue all of the time, and we've got to be okay with that. It's not a question of choosing or thinking that one thing is better than the other. It's just the way life is._

_We might be heroes, but we're not more than human._

That resonated, for the most part, with him.

"Death is a part of life, even if it happens prematurely," he settled upon, still not quite sure if it was what he wanted to say most of all. "I suppose, in the case of myself, perishing before the mass decimation, I am trying to reason why I should have been revived. Not simply because I am what I am."

Natasha was quiet, absorbing what he had said, cradling her cup in a way that made him think of Wanda, making whatever was responsible within his chest ache all the more.

"I don't know that I have any answers for you, Vision," she answered, her words not as much of a disappointment than he might have expected, "except to say that I think it has a lot to do with _who_ you are. As well as who you have in your life who cares for you."

She began to smile as she brought the mug up again, giving time for what she had said to sink in. While comforting, it was a concept that he continued to struggle with in these quieter moments. His existence was not meant to be more precious than any other. If anything, he believed that it should be inferior.

"You said it yourself," Natasha continued, "it was destruction, not death. What happened first should never have happened. You were meant to have a life. And, from everything I know, it was only just beginning."

Wanda was close to Natasha. She may well have confided in her many times in the period in which they were divided. It was not lost on him that the original Avenger might know more of his humanity – his attempt at constructing it, at least – than he was aware of at this stage.

Perhaps he would investigate further, but at another time. For now he was seeking commonality, in order to feel…affirmation? Comfort? He was unsure, but he also suspected that it might bring him some semblance of peace.

"You and I both made sacrifices. Yours was more successful than mine."

"Which was not your fault," Natasha intoned, quite gravely.

"I do not believe that I am without fault, though I accept that the circumstances were extraordinary." He examined Natasha's face, considering that she appeared very much at ease. "Do you feel…_disappointment_ is too slight a word, and I am not sure that _guilt_ fits either, given the remarkable situation."

She came to the rescue quickly. "Are you asking whether it feels less, because I survived?"

He nodded. The concept was too much to untangle, alone.

"I didn't have to think about it. It felt like it was how it was meant to be. I'd spent five years trying to figure it out, what should have been impossible but I knew _couldn't_ be, not with those of us who were left…"

Her words trailed off and she bowed her head. He touched a hand to her shoulder as she gathered herself and she looked at him from the side of her eyes, softly smiling.

"Given how I was the one driving it all forward, it felt right. I was glad to die, if it meant that everyone else had a chance of living again. The only thing that made me doubt a little bit was the pain in my chest. Clint's pain, when he knew that I was serious. It was kind of like dying before death itself. I had to do it. There was no other way."

He understood, deeply so. Wanda's face and the anguish etched upon it rushed to the front of his mind; with Natasha's explanation of her own sacrifice he felt like he was kneeling upon the earth in Wakanda again, waiting for his death.

"I never expected that I'd live again, afterwards. I mean, it was all so surreal that I thought maybe it was some kind of afterlife for a good few days. But that would have been much weirder than reality." She laughed for a moment. "I tried to explain it to myself before Thor came and brought me back, but I just had to let it go. I was glad to die. I was thankful to live. If I had to do it again, with no guarantees of coming back, then there's no question, I absolutely would. In a heartbeat. But everything is so unexplainable, this whole universe. Trying to reason _why_…it seems kind of insignificant, against everything."

He thought that he could understand that, though his natural instincts were to repel against ignorance.

"You know, out of everyone, I wanted to bring you back most of all."

He was rather perplexed by her admission, and had to verbally admit as such, which made her smile.

"It didn't seem fair. You were still so new to the world, with so much to experience. When I saw you there and what happened…it shocked me like nothing else I'd ever known. All that optimism and hope that you embody, gone and so cruelly. It was horrific."

He paused upon that for a while, not having considered that he could be such a symbol.

"And you should know that I've always had a soft spot for you. Well, not in the way that Wanda does." She laughed again.

"I believe that a founding reason of her attraction to me is the fact that I am indestructible. Or, at least, that I was meant to be."

Her eyes went wider and she appeared aghast for a moment or two.

"Believe me, she loves you for a lot more than that."

He was aware that he had been flippant, but the confirmation of that which he knew deep down to be true made him feel warm and incredibly happy. It was also good to know that an observer could interpret the depth of his and Wanda's feelings for one another, though they were not particularly in need of the approval.

"You should talk to her about how you're feeling. She's not fragile, she wouldn't break."

Vision was impressed that she had been able to predict his argument before he could vocalise it.

"I will," he answered after another minute of contemplation. "I believe that it would help if you were to talk to Mr Barton, also."

"Talking's not really our thing," Natasha replied with a half-smile upon her face, "but, times have changed."

Vision smiled. "Thank you, Natasha. Our discussion has helped me greatly."

"I'm glad."

He offered to wash her finished coffee mug but she was insistent that she could do so herself, and so he returned upstairs, once he had told Natasha that he would look forward to seeing her again later in the day. He levitated into the room so as to avoid making any noise upon the slightly creaking floorboards and as he approached the bed he was glad to see that Wanda was still asleep.

He believed as much until he climbed back beneath the covers.

"Vizh?" she murmured, her eyes blinking open as she turned towards him, one hand draped over her forehead. "What time is it?"

"Still early," he replied, foregoing precision in favour to occupy his thoughts with her and how lovely she looked, covered with sleepiness.

"Mmmm," she emitted, reaching for his arm to fix upon her waist, "let's just stay here awhile. Cosy."

He smiled as she snuggled herself against him, holding her close with his arm draped about her.

"Anything you wish."

* * *

_He stood in front of the mirror that was fixed to the wall of the bathroom, staring at his reflection for some time, making adjustments to the hair upon his head that were hardly noticeable. He angled his face by the smallest of fractions, observing how the winter weather had made the skin depleted of moisture. Leaning closer towards his reflection, he touched fingertips to one cheek and then the other, examining carefully. The light in the room was not what could be deemed flattering. He noticed a scattering of stubble upon his jaw, skimming up towards the cheekbones. It had not yet ceased to fascinate him, and he had toyed with the idea of leaving it alone and growing a moustache or beard. In doing so he would go some way to looking considerably different, which would surely help in the current situation._

_Until now it was not something he had given much thought to. He had found an appearance that he was comfortable with. Though it was still something of a novelty to gaze at himself to such a degree, most of the time moving swiftly through cities without catching sight of windows or puddles left by the rain, he did recognise himself in this guise. Perhaps it had something to do with the length of time he had been adopting it, but he believed that to be only one factor. He felt like himself, and the feeling was one which gave him a great deal of serenity, as well as satisfaction._

_It was a happy bonus that Wanda considered him aesthetically pleasing. She would sense if he felt ill at ease, and tell him that he shouldn't change his disguise for her sake._

_And yet he would do anything for her. It was the determining factor in any situation that he was absolutely certain of._

_He remained absorbed – somewhat ashamedly so, if he was to contemplate the question of vanity in great detail – even when he became aware of the door behind him widening and the scent of fruit tea, bed linen and oriental noted perfume awakening his olfactory function._

_His reflection smiled widely at him when he registered her arms wrapping around his middle, though he could only discern a small fragment of her appearing in the mirror, hidden as she was behind his back._

_She rested her head against his frame and he felt her warmth transferring to him, surging throughout his body._

"_I woke up and you weren't there."_

_The heat of affection was tempered by that of shame on his part._

"_I'm sorry. I got distracted."_

"_Hey, don't apologise. I'd get distracted by myself too if I was you." He felt her smile against the t-shirt he wore, and also was aware of his blushing at her remark. "I just missed you."_

_She hugged him a little tighter, making him smile wider. He caught one of her hands and brought it to his lips, kissing between her knuckles._

_When he turned to face her, her beauty was dazzling in the harsh blue-tinged hue that hurt his eyes slightly. She was softness, comfort in her baggy long-sleeved top and better-fitting shorts, pillow-rumpled hair and tired, happy eyes._

_Home. That was the word that best described what he felt when he looked at her._

"_Would you like it if I stayed for a couple of days longer?"_

_The light that filled her face – much kinder than that which lit the room – filled his heart with immeasurable joy._

"_I'd love it. Vizh, you don't even need to ask…"_

"_Well, I thought, perhaps…but I did not want to presume. If you had other plans or commitments…"_

"_I'm free as a – well, I'm not, but you know what I mean." She laughed, full and from the depth of her soul, her hands pressed against his chest. "But what about Stark? Won't he notice that you're gone?"_

"_He is not without things to keep him occupied."_

_In truth, he knew his absence did not impact upon Mr Stark in the slightest, but if he commented as such it would only anger and upset Wanda._

"_I would rather spend the time with you."_

_Another beautiful smile broke upon her face, one which he wished to capture forever. She barreled against his chest mere seconds later and he held her tightly to him, savouring the moment and her, and trying not to let his thoughts overwhelm him._

_\- She can't stay with me – It's all I want – I can't keep leaving her_

_He did all he could to quiet his mind down, anxious that she might hear. He was always open to her in every aspect, but he did not want her to pick up on any of his distress. It was strange that he should feel it when he was so elated._

_In order to achieve equilibrium, he resorted to the superficial._

"_Do you think I should get a haircut?"_

_Glowing green eyes looked up at him, smiling but seconds before her lips did._

"_I thought you could take care of that yourself?" _

"_Most likely. But it would also be a new experience."_

_She tilted her head, reaching up her hand to brush the air before her fingers raked through the front of his hair._

"_It's up to you, of course, but I kind of like it how it is."_

_He smiled. Her affirmation was all he needed._

"_Then I shall refrain."_

* * *

The reassembling of The Avengers was becoming less of a concept and further to reality, predominately due to Natasha appointing herself in a position of guidance at the helm. Clint did not especially like that she had undertook such a role. He would have preferred that she relinquished ties altogether and settled down into a life of normality, as he had done. "What's so wrong with being Auntie Nat?" he had asked her over the table one evening, Laura throwing him a glance from where she sat directly opposite.

She had smiled and responded, _nothing at all_, looking fondly at Lila who sat to the right of her.

"But you know me," she went on to say.

Better than anyone, she didn't need to say.

"This is what I'm made for."

Laura's hand was upon his arm before he could do any more than look at Natasha, his stare focused but not hard.

"Right," he said, once the atmosphere had settled, "since when have you ever listened to me, anyway?"

"I listened all the time," she was unable to resist a shoot-back, "you were always too busy chasing the target."

For Clint's peace of mind, Natasha's involvement was to be supervisory. It made sense to have one of the original Avengers to oversee things, especially now that Fury had turned his attentions to the situation off-Earth. She hadn't entirely ruled out helping with the occasional mission on the ground if required – and didn't hide the fact, to Clint's chagrin if not his surprise – but it would be her skills of intelligence that she would employ first and foremost.

After having something of an extended break since arriving at the Barton residence, and sensing the charged shift in matters, Wanda and Vision began to resume their training. It was nothing too intensive, with Natasha keen that they prioritise their wellbeing above anything, but it felt good to prepare themselves and ensure that they would not find themselves unfocused or out of practice when the time did come to take up their duties on a permanent basis once more.

While he greatly enjoyed the time and space to reflect and to _be_, Vision conceded that he was looking forward to serving a larger purpose again, and he could not feel more assured knowing that Wanda would be at his side in doing so – if not always physically, then certainly spiritually. Their mental bonding was stronger than ever, thanks to their sharing her energy, and it was a factor which Natasha was confident would be a significant advantage within the team.

It was the matter of the team and its incomplete status which lingered, and brought the conference into play on a rather dreary afternoon. Cooper hooked his laptop up to the television screen, which saved the four of them – Natasha, Wanda, Vision and Clint – huddling around the smaller device. Joining from their various locations were Sam, Bucky and Scott, as well as Tony and Pepper. Since learning of Natasha's close involvement in the new operation, Tony had been keen to lend his support too. It couldn't be denied that his technological empire would be invaluable to the team, and Pepper had also offered to head up the media side of things – after all that had happened there was no way that The Avengers could operate under the radar.

Of course, there were other reasons – chiefly that Tony Stark found it impossible to keep himself out of anything he'd been a part of. If he had been physically able he would have signed up for the job himself, no questions about it.

"What about Strange?" Natasha offered, a little alarmed at how quickly the options had become depleted.

Tony's grimace filled the screen. "That guy's ego is ridiculously huge. We've gotta have a team of equals, not one member who wants to overshadow the rest with delusions of grandeur."

"Coming from you, that's saying something," Clint scoffed.

Tony chose to ignore the aside – likely in the spirit of self-acceptance. "Besides, his deal is all the mystic shebang. The trillion different dimensions or whatever. His head's not going to be in the game when it comes to a terrorist gang in South East Asia."

"If I may interject," Vision held a hand up for permission to speak, "I believe that keeping a view to the other things that may be possible, and indeed to have a teammate who is well-versed in such matters, would be extremely useful."

"I agree, Vision," Natasha said, looking towards him, "we can't shut away what has been suggested, not after Thanos. Perhaps Strange is best as an on-call for when its needed the most, but that list is getting pretty long."

She stared down as though there was an actual list in her lap, a hand pressed to the back of her neck while she exhaled a sigh.

She straightened up a minute later, turning her focus straight ahead.

"I mean, there's someone pretty much staring us in the face here, figuratively speaking. We know that he's capable. Not only us, but the whole world – "

"Stop there, Romanoff. Peter is out of bounds."

Natasha frowned, folding her arms. "You want to tell me exactly why that is, Stark?"

Tony's eyes widened, exasperated that she even had to ask. He turned to Pepper, who fixed him with a look, before putting his gaze headlong again.

"Okay, for one, he's too young. He's a kid, and it's too much responsibility."

Vision raised his hand once more. "Technically speaking, I am the youngest. Mr Parker has fourteen years worth of experience of the world which I am lacking."

"Can't argue with that," Natasha interjected.

"You have a super-computer in your head, Vision, not to mention super-human strength and durability. It kinda plugs the gaps." Tony allowed himself a moment of pride before getting back to the matter at hand. "It's a hell of a burden to put on the shoulders of someone who isn't out of high-school yet. And I'd prefer that he graduates college before he even thinks about doing anything remotely superhero-related."

"With all respect, you're not his guardian," Natasha said, matter-of-fact and with no insinuating tone. "I get it, you feel responsible. You never intended to make him an Avenger, we all know the circumstances were exceptional. But at the same time, you can't take it back."

"Telling adolescent boys what they ought to do is right up there with the toughest missions I've been on," Clint chipped in.

Tony was silent for long enough that they started to suspect that something might be amiss with the internet connection.

"I pushed him into this in the first place, so I gotta know when to pull back. The stuff with Beck gave me a lot of sleepless nights. I never thought we'd be able to explain it away, convince the world that Spider-Man had nothing to do with Peter Parker, but we managed it. Mainly because Pep is a genius when it comes to sweetening the press."

Pepper lowered and shook her head, while Tony pulled her hand close enough to his mouth to place a kiss upon it.

"I owe him his freedom. All the stuff I never got the chance to do as a kid, being the son of the not-so-great Howard Stark."

Natasha and Clint looked at one another, knowing that Tony had a point.

"Who says that we have to have another member?" Scott announced, his face now filling the screen. "Five's a pretty solid number."

"It's better to have even numbers in the team to cover all bases. I wouldn't want anyone going solo on a mission, especially not now," Natasha stated.

"Ah, good point," Scott replied, shrinking back from his own screen.

"What about Rhodey?" Sam suggested, "we did some good work together after Ultron. He's a good guy and a brilliant asset."

"I won't argue with that," Tony said, "but what happened with Thanos left him shaken. If you were to ask him, he'd probably say that he'd done enough already and he was too old to start again."

"Not older than I am," Bucky interjected.

"He's more than capable," Tony continued, "I just think it'd take time. Probably longer than you really want."

"We could…" Scott began, before pulling up, "ah, shoot, it'd be an odd number. Never mind."

Silence fell upon the gathering after Clint had joked about whether they still had the means of contacting the raccoon, the collective thought intensive.

"Um, this might be kind of obvious," Wanda began tentatively, glancing around the room and then towards the screen, "but wouldn't it be best to ask rather than assume? I know there are good reasons for both cases."

She made a point of looking at Tony as she said so, as he was the closest to both Peter and Rhodey and the one who had the most reservations about both options.

"The rest of us are here because we want to be Avengers," she went on, "even though it might have been easier to walk away. I absolutely wouldn't hold it against Rhodey if he wanted to do that, or Peter. They would know better than any of us about what's in their heart."

Though she spoke with conviction she quickly averted her gaze once she had finished her statement.

"That's all I have to say, really."

Natasha smiled towards the younger woman, though, with her eyes trained upon her lap, Wanda wasn't able to see her mentor's encouragement. Vision had filled with pride and admiration as soon as Wanda had started to speak. Sitting at her side he reached his hand the short distance to take her own, and when his fingers slid against hers, she lifted her head to look solely at him, her face filling with a beautiful smile.

"You know, Maximoff?" Tony said, leaning in closer towards what was probably a microscopic device which allowed him and Pepper to appear to the rest of them, "I think that's the best idea that anyone's had in this whole thing."

Wanda looked a little taken aback, as though she wasn't able to believe that Tony could say something so positive in address to her.

"Thanks," she uttered softly.

Vision issued a small squeeze to the fingers that he had remained holding.

"Well, that settles it," Natasha said, "I'll arrange calls with both Rhodey and Peter in the next week."

"May the best man win," Clint exclaimed, "though from what I know they're both pretty great."

"I gotta say, no matter what I said, I'm kinda relieved," Tony added, "as it stands it's a pretty Team Cap heavy state of affairs."

Natasha shook her head as she got to her feet. "Okay, I'm about to cut you off before you can cause any trouble."

There came a laugh from the other side of the screen. "Who's the expert here, Romanoff?"

* * *

A couple of hours after dinner Vision and Wanda headed upstairs, Wanda taking a shower before entering their room. In the time that she had been occupied Vision had tried to read the book he had started a few days ago but found that he had trouble centering his concentration, the problem being so much that he was only able to digest the opening two sentences of the paragraph he was picking up from. With a little frustration he placed the bookmark back between the pages and put the volume down upon the cabinet at the bedside.

His conversation with Natasha from a couple of days previous remained in his head. He was fixated upon what she had said, that he should discuss his thoughts and feelings with Wanda. The last thing he wanted was to cause her any distress, and he feared that if he were to raise the subject of that which had been troubling him distress was precisely what would follow.

Yet, if he were to remain silent and keep his troubles to himself he was well aware that the problem would not only persist but was very likely to worsen.

"Hey." She held a towel in her hands as she padded towards the bed, using it to dry her hair intermittently. "Not in the mood for reading?"

"It would seem not."

She smiled at him, letting out a small chuckle, probably at how solemn he appeared.

"That's okay. You don't have to read every night."

He managed a small smile. He did not want her to use her powers to read him, it was unfair.

"I'm sorry if I have seemed distracted recently."

Wanda reached a hand towards him, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. "Never say sorry, Vizh, not to me. I guess you've been a little not yourself, but nothing too bad. Nothing that has made me worry."

Her eyes were kind upon him. He focused on the exact shade of green of her irises, the gentle pressure of the pads of her fingers as she kneaded his crimson skin.

"If you want to talk, I'm here to listen." There was but two seconds of silence before she added, leaning her frame towards his own, "If you don't, then I'm here too."

_I will always be here_ was the implication that she did not need to vocalise.

"I suspect that you will not like what I have to say."

He watched as a hint of a smile played upon her lips, lifting them upwards. Her fingers had stilled in their repetitive motions, but now her hand was covering his, or at least attempting to do so.

"Try me."

Vision averted his gaze momentarily, feeling uncomfortable about the instinct to do so. He was very aware of Wanda right by his side, envisioned the expression on her face shifting to a concerned frown which deepened as he exhaled a lengthy sigh.

"I have been contemplating my revival. Not the mechanics of it," he paused to lift his eyes to her again, smiling to acknowledge her integral part in proceedings before turning reflective once more, "but rather the principles and the philosophy, if that is not too grand a term."

Wanda was still looking at him, staring as though perhaps she did not quite believe that he was real. The look in her eyes was both awe-inspiring and deeply affecting to him.

"If, for one or various reasons, it had proved impossible for me to exist once more…"

He sensed her agitation in the swift change of her body language, the way she turned as if to escape while her hand stayed twined with his.

"Vision," she said with sharpness, and he could not comprehend whether it was a warning or an order, "don't talk like that."

He could not see her face, which made it all the more difficult to voice his thoughts.

"Wanda."

He spoke her name softly several times, almost as a whisper, which appeared to ease her. After a couple of minutes had passed her body became significantly less tense; she looked towards him once more, sitting herself back down on the bed. The grief and sorrow still lingered around her features, which he felt deeply guilty for, yet he was unable to retreat.

He traced his fingers over her palm before linking their hands together again, holding on to affirm that everything was true, that it was him and he was there.

"If I had not come back to life," he reiterated, "I would like to know whether you would have been happy."

She looked down at their joined hands for a few moments, staying silent until she was able to look him in the eyes again.

"Honestly? I don't think so."

Her answer was an outcome that he had considered as a possibility, but the one which he had dreaded the most. He felt it as a crushing blow, weighing down upon his whole body.

Wanda tilted her head slightly before she moved to expand. "I think the most I could have hoped for would to have been content. I would have still been with The Avengers, and that would make me feel needed. Given me something to focus upon. And everything would be fine, nothing would be wrong and I'd still have the others, and Clint and Laura and the kids. But _happy_…without you, Vizh, I don't think it could be possible. There would be something always in the way, a wall of shadow that I couldn't get past or break down, not with anything I can do."

It hurt him to think that she would have spent her life mourning him, a part of her always in despair. He did not think himself to be worth such a sacrifice.

And yet if their roles had been reversed, and the price of his existence was that Wanda's was extinguished forever, he would have pleaded to be destroyed again, straight away.

"Before Pietro died, I thought my future was certain. That we would be together for all of our lives, until we were old and our hair was grey, though his was already kind of white." Her laugh, as brief as it was, came as a balm of relief. "It's funny, some days when I saw the picture it was just the two of us. But other times he had a wife, sometimes even a child. A little girl who looked just like him. I never had a husband. The possibility never crossed my mind. Then he was gone, and everything turned to darkness. It was dark for a long time. It took so long to pull myself out of it, and when I fell, sometimes I didn't want to get back up again."

She pressed her palm more firmly against his, cradled their joined hands with her other.

"I never dreamed that we would have what we have, and when it happened it made it all the more precious to me. I'd scold myself at times. '_Wanda, how could you ever think this would not be true?'_ It's funny, I guess. Once, I never thought that I could have a life like this. A love like _you_."

She smiled widely; he felt how happy she was, the emotion so intense. Her green eyes still shimmered with tears as she looked at him.

"I suppose that's exactly why…if I didn't have you back again, everything would feel so…untrue."

"Wanda."

He spoke her name with reverence, such deep love and devotion. He raised their hands to his mouth, unfolding them so that he could press his lips solely to the back of her hand and the curve of her thumb.

A series of images flashed one after the other in the back of his mind, of carrying out this very same act before with the same level of care and affection, fervently hoping that she would recognise it.

He heard her sigh softly, and he wondered whether she did so unconsciously.

"I'm sorry."

His lips stilled upon her skin and his eyes looked into her own, observing a mixture of elation and regret.

"My happiness isn't your responsibility, Vizh," she said, her voice heavier than before, "neither is making my sadness go away."

She cupped his cheek with her hand for a few moments, her gaze intent upon him.

"You won't know, but I came to see you before I used my powers on you. I was actually deciding on whether it would be best to try, or to let you go."

Her voice crackled in her throat. He hadn't any doubt that she had wrestled with the decision beforehand, and her confirmation of such issued comfort to the mind that had been troubled.

"It was always about you, Vizh. Giving you back the life that never should have been stolen from you. When you came back, I got caught up in my emotions…I guess I forgot about what I said."

Her expression betrayed sorrow, as well as something he couldn't quite interpret.

"Wanda?" he asked gently, directing her gaze back to him from where it had briefly fallen to the floor.

Her smile didn't quite fit upon her lips. "I've been selfish, despite promising myself that I wouldn't be, and I'm sorry for that."

"There is no need for you to apologise," he told her sincerely.

Her hand brushed his cheek delicately before falling into her lap.

"If you want some time apart, it's okay. Even with The Avengers, we can still work together. However much space you need and however long it takes, it's all good with me."

He was rather bemused, not expecting such a consequence.

"Wanda, I have no wish or desire to be anywhere else than with you," he was quick to answer, hoping that he could put her mind at rest.

Her face brightened once more, a smile that was far more genuine gracing it.

"If you're sure," she ventured, "I have kinda hogged you ever since."

He smiled at her sheepishness. "Given the circumstances, it is entirely understandable. Though I do not consider it monopolising. Over the last few days I have been experiencing…not _dreams_, exactly. I believe them to be memories of our time together after the relationship between Mr Stark and Captain Rogers broke down irrevocably."

"Really?" She smiled yet wider as he nodded in assent. "Vizh, that's amazing."

"My appearance for the most part was considerably different."

She laughed. "It was. As handsome as the disguise was, I'm glad that you can be yourself now."

He could feel himself growing rather warm under her intent stare.

"Putting these memories alongside the experiences I was already able to recall after my revival, the difference in my emotional state from the times I was with you to the times that we were apart could not be more contrasting." He squeezed her hand as the newer, rediscovered memories burned brighter with the merest of consideration. "It was elation followed by misery."

"Oh, Vizh," her voice was soft, sorrowful for his plight, "I wish you didn't have to remember feeling miserable."

"I am glad that I can," he responded, smiling although it probably seemed odd to do so. "It reaffirms what I knew to be true from the moment we were reacquainted, even though my memories were considerably fractured then. That my greatest and truest happiness lies with you."

The beaming smile was back on her face, and he knew then that he had not seen nor could recall a more beautiful sight.

"I believe that you said something about _forever_ on that day?"

Her eyes were striking as they glimmered with light. "When I picture my future, it's with you. I want everything with you, Vizh."

"And I want the same."

He did not want to darken the mood by raising the fact that he would not be able to provide her with everything that she deserved, but he would certainly do all that he possibly could to ensure her happiness.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," she said, smiling as she leant in closer to him and tipped her head back a little.

The kiss which he initiated, as was her wish for him to do so, was sweet, full of the love and promises they had shared. He could feel her smiling against his mouth and it sent delightful sparks surging through him, his hands placed against her waist.

"I love you, Wanda."

She pressed a hand to his cheek, pressing herself against him.

"I love you too, Vizh. Always."

They fell into kissing again after exchanging the words that meant so much – quite literally, the bed beneath them cushioning their fall. Wanda curled herself around his frame, and though he was focused on their touches and kisses, he became suddenly aware that the dimensions were even narrower than he had previously given credit for.

"I think Laura said something about everyone getting an early night," Wanda said, her eyes sparkling as her hands traced his sides, "and I know for a fact that she bought earplugs for Clint."

"Oh," he uttered. Beneath him Wanda giggled, her hands looping about his neck.

"If you don't want to…"

"I would certainly like to," he responded, causing her to smile up at him. That night in Wakanda seemed like a long time ago, though he adored holding and sleeping beside her, doing little more than talking and exchanging chaste kisses.

"I'm glad to hear it."

He was so caught up in staring at her that he was hardly aware that she had switched places so that she was now above him, pinning him in place with her knees either side of him. Her hair hung over him, brushing against his torso as she lowered herself in closer proximity.

"Because I really want to show you how much I love you, miy Vision."

* * *

_She was everything, everywhere, all that he was able to feel. Her body beneath his own. Only moments before, they had moved together as one – before it became too much for them to hold onto, and wonder surrounded them. He became lost but not helpless, surrendering himself to her. They were still connected, in mind as well as in body, and he could not think of tearing himself away from her. Though she had temporarily lost motor function, her arms were looped around his neck. Her breathing was laboured, as was his own. His hands slipped upwards from her waist to brush up her sides, past her breasts, until they cupped her face tenderly. _

_Her eyelids were fluttering, her mouth parted slightly. He leaned away from her ever so slightly, still not separating._

_His limbs felt light, his head as though it were on fire._

"_Wanda."_

_She was his anchor._

_Wanda. Wanda. _

_Before this night she was everything, but now…the feeling was unbelievable. _

_She was an irretrievable part of his soul, nestled within his heart._

_Her eyes opened slowly, a hazy but beautiful smile stretching her lips. _

"_Vizh," she breathed his name and it sounded wonderful._

_As wonderful as the feeling that had rushed through his body mere minutes ago, sending him soaring. He had experienced her pleasure in harmony with his own, reverberating within his mind. It gave meaning to the word euphoria._

_She moved enough so that her hands were gripping his forearms, unwilling as he was to break their union._

"_I hope that was…"_

_She beamed up towards him, the light from the moon and stars outside reflected in her face._

"_That was everything," she said, her voice wavering a little. _

_She tugged at one of his hands, pulling it away from her face just enough so she could twine their hands together again._

_Later, when their hearts had calmed but they were still tangled together, she told him that she was lucky that he had been her first and that it had been such a perfect experience._

_He couldn't help from thinking that he was the lucky one, to be blessed with someone as perfect as her. _

* * *

**A/N: After being all Wanda up to now, it was fun to write this chapter from Vision's POV. And he's remembering more about those two years of stolen moments...**

**Also, the WandaVision teaser is giving me all of the domestic!Scarletvision feels.**


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8_

_Wanda sat at the counter, her eyes cast down at the plate in front of her. He was on the opposite side, watching her with a keen and appreciative gaze. While he both liked and found such methods of observation useful, he was also aware that it was quite an unusual practice to so closely examine his significant other as she went about the necessities of life. As such, he had enquired as to her feelings regarding his observations, being clear that if she perceived it to be strange in any manner, or an intrusion of her privacy, then he would cease to do so without hesitation. _

_At first he expected that she may be humouring him, especially given the shift in their level of intimacy with one another. Yet Wanda was always honest, and the way that she smiled so openly with bright, wide eyes, and also touched her hand to his forearm tenderly, told him without doubts that she was happy for him to continue._

_Her hand was curved around the slice of toasted bread, which crunched as she took a generous bite. Her tongue darted out between her lips to collect small crumbs that had gathered at the corners and she made satisfied noises as she digested the bite, which told him that the food was particularly pleasing. He had read many times that breakfast was considered not only the most important for sustenance but also the most enjoyable meal of the day, and the underlying logic could hardly be questioned._

_Aside from in moments of particular anxiety, Wanda ate every meal with relish, savouring each mouthful which was not to be taken for granted. It made him happy to see her take enjoyment in what was an understandable pleasure – at least, to humankind. When they were together like this, first thing in the day and last at night, she was especially relaxed and the benefits for her wellbeing were plainly visible. _

_He felt himself smiling as he regarded her, her eyes meeting his in recognition of him doing so, which made his face heat up._

"_This is so good," she said after the moment had passed. He watched as she tore off a soft, golden piece from the middle of the slice, folding it in slightly before she brought it to her mouth. Again, she made the same humming noise, only louder on this occasion. "Mmmm, soooo good."_

"_It certainly sounds as though you are enjoying it."_

"_Mm-hmm."_

_He smiled again, very glad of the fact. Of late, he had reached the conclusion that his own experiences of the world did not provide as much joy to him as knowing that Wanda felt happy, safe and secure did. He wanted nothing other than to keep her so for as long as it was possible for him to do so._

_She leaned forward slightly on her stool. His gaze was pinned to her, although in conflict as whether to focus on her face as she savoured what was left, or on her hands as they worked upon the food in advance, prolonging the blissful experience. _

"_You should try some," she said, her lips curving into an excited smile._

_The suggestion was an appealing one, his curiosity long having been piqued by observing the obvious delight Wanda took from eating. _

"_Unless…" she quickly backtracked, her body recoiling too, "I don't want to pressure you."_

_He shook his head before speaking. "I have suspected for some time that I am missing out, but it would seem in this instance I am especially so."_

"_I mean, you're not missing out on a lot." She broke off a piece that was smaller than the portions she had been feeding herself. "But this French toast is the best I've ever had. Perhaps of any food, ever."_

"_That is a substantial claim, but then again I have no frame of reference by which to compare."_

"_You'll just have to take my word for it, then." _

_She offered the piece out to him, and he noticed that she tensed her shoulders as he took it from her, lifting it to his mouth._

"_Sorry, ignore me."_

_He had assured her several times previously that there was no reason to believe that consuming food would prove hazardous to him. He could understand her concerns, however, considering that he had so far refrained, in all the time he had spent with the other Avengers and despite trying his very best to assimilate all manners of human behaviour. _

_He hesitated for a brief moment, seeing that Wanda was watching him with some cautiousness, before folding the piece in half with his fingers – as he had observed her doing mere moments previously – and popping it into his mouth._

_The bread was soft and sweet, and fizzled a little against his tongue. The sensation was peculiar, but not unpleasant. The taste continued to improve as he chewed, and he nodded his head a little in approval, knowing that it was polite to finish a mouthful in completion before making the choice to speak once more._

"_That was very nice, indeed." He was pleased to behold Wanda beaming a smile in response to his appraisal. "I do wonder if perhaps we have set the bar too high on the first occasion."_

"_Oh, I think it's worth it." _

_She set to work on fairly distributing the remainder of the toast between them, feeding the last morsel to him with her fingertips and giggling softly as she did so. The elation he felt at this new shared experience could hardly be contained within himself._

"_I could learn to make this myself," she mused, "toast has got to be easy to get right, surely?"_

"_I would think so," he responded with a smile of encouragement. _

_Before they left the hotel for the day he would kiss her and taste the sweet remnants upon her tongue, smiling at the memory but also simply at sharing in the time with her, everything they chose to do together as much of a pleasure as the last thing._

"_In the meantime, taking advantage of room service isn't so bad."_

_He smiled at her, imagining plates upon plates of French toast filling their room for the little time they had left to occupy it._

"_Certainly not when the product is so good."_

_Breakfast might have been the only meal he had partaken in thus far, but he could already imagine that it would be his favourite._

* * *

The house was quieter since Natasha had left for New York, keen to make preparations for the new Avengers operations and promising to be in touch when all was at a sufficient state of readiness. Cooper and Lila were at school for the majority of the time over five days of the week, so for the most part it was occupied by the five of them. It was pleasant to have the extra space and certainly, the additional peace afforded by a lowered level of noise for several hours of the day was another aspect that both Vision and Wanda found to be beneficial.

Little Nate still required a good deal of amusement and prevented things from being too quiet. The youngest member of the Barton family was as enamoured with Vision as ever, something which he was equally flattered and fascinated by. He had just as much to learn from Nate as vice versa and found their times together deeply enriching.

It was just as satisfying for him to observe Wanda with Nate from a small distance, playing and reading, an activity which he was particularly moved by considering that Wanda had not been that confident in her abilities reading in English until very recently. The way that young Nate peered up at Wanda could not be ignored, and in turn the way in which she responded with such enthusiasm and compassion was a spectacle which could cause even the hardest of hearts to soften, and when accompanied by the joyful laughter of both parties would most certainly render anyone in the close vicinity deeply sentimental.

Yet, as he watched with profound fondness, Vision was also struck with sorrow. His personal shortcomings were of little consequence if he were to think of them for his own sake, but they became amplified when it came to Wanda. There were things they had not yet discussed in terms of their relationship, although it seemed to be the case that they shared prospects that went into the future by some distance. Perhaps it was a natural consequence of spending time with the Bartons that led the idea of children to figure within his thoughts. Questions of biology were not the sole complicating factor, although it was the most sizeable barrier to overcome. Put simply, he could not fathom any way in which it would not prove impossible for him to father children. Even so, he was finding it difficult to renounce the possibility altogether, especially when Wanda appeared to be so content with Nate and did just as well in her dealings with both Cooper and Lila.

There were other avenues to be pursued – adoption and fostering, to name but two – and he also imagined that it might be slightly premature to discuss these with Wanda as yet.

He did, despite having spent the majority of his life in a domestic arrangement predominately with other males, seem to seek out the company of females. Laura was a wonderful woman, with many qualities that were deeply admirable. In particular she had a talent for baking which he hoped to learn from, if he could not emulate entirely. In general her nature was serene as well as being practical, and it felt comfortable to gravitate towards her.

He was well aware that being _comfortable_ was not a state that was conducive to progress, at least not permanently.

Broaching the subject of quality time with Clint was not as daunting as he had first considered it might be, with Mr Barton being receptive to the idea. Wanda, whilst not teasing, spoke in a certain way when discussing the topic with Vision alone, referring to it as their 'guy date'. When he responded measuredly that he doubted that Clint would view it as such, she smiled and nuzzled against him, and then later said that she was glad that he was making the effort.

"_Oh, I do not consider it to be an effort to spend time with Mr Barton, even if we have not typically sought one another's company."_

"_Figure of speech, Vizh," _she had replied, with a glint in her eye.

"_Ah, I see."_

She smiled once more, draping her arm against his mid-section. _"I'm still glad about it. And I'm sure you'll have fun."_

He was not quite certain that 'fun' would be the most accurate word to use, but he did not wish to jump to conclusions, either.

He declined the prospect of an afternoon's shooting practice, not wanting to 'step on' Mr Barton's toes, to borrow another figure of speech that he had acquired. To his relief Clint had chuckled at the dismissal, agreeing that it was probably for the best. Instead they located to a lake that was around thirty minutes out from the ranch to spend some time fishing. Vision was keen to point out that he did not wish to retain any fish once they had been caught, but rather admire them for a matter of seconds before putting them back into the lake. Clint had no qualms with this, suggesting that it might be a stretch for him to catch any in the first place.

"I'm not really much of a fishing person," he supplied as they set up their equipment and collapsible stools beside the riverbank, "but it's good to do something different. Besides, it'd make my old man happy to know that I didn't get put off completely."

He went on to explain that his father enjoyed fishing as a pursuit, and would take a young Clint out most weekends on the lake in hope of instilling his passion in his son. Though he wasn't successful in that particular respect, those afternoons did teach a lot about patience and perseverance, skills that had come in very useful on many missions. Vision listened intently to what Clint had to say about Mr Barton Senior, and with particular interest given the recent path of his thoughts.

That was until he perceived a shift in Clint's body language, which then caused him to halt in his flow of conversation.

"Sorry, this must be kinda boring for you."

"I can assure you that it is not. On the contrary, I find talk of childhood and family life incredibly interesting."

Mr Barton made a small huffing sound and then turned his head to the side to smile towards Vision.

"That's good, seeing as I don't have much else to talk about these days."

The conversation contained several fairly lengthy lulls, silence filled by the gentle rushing sound of the water and birdsong upon the air. Vision thought about what Natasha had implied, that Clint wasn't particularly talkative, and so he focused on that fact rather than believing there was anything wrong. He himself was of a contemplative nature and so enjoyed the company, thinking that the afternoon was going well. He hoped that the same could be said for Mr Barton, though he could not read him as well as others he had come to know with increased familiarity.

They had kept an informal tally of how many fish they had caught, with Clint taking photographic evidence on his cell phone to show the family once they returned.

"You're doing well," he said to Vision, who did have the higher 'score' by several. "You might have a talent here."

"I believe there is such a thing as 'beginners' luck', and that I may be experiencing it," Vision returned.

Clint laughed. "Hey, whatever. I'd take it."

After another fifteen minutes had passed and no more fish had come his way, Clint decided to pack his equipment away. Vision followed suit, though Clint insisted he did not have to. There was a small fish attached to the end of his line when he took the rod out of the water and he unhooked it carefully, noticing that it appeared almost iridescent in his hands. He stooped close to the bank, lowering it gently back into the water. It was only sometime afterwards that he realised that they had not taken a photograph. Clint had been busy and it hadn't seemed worth bothering him about it. He knew enough about the fish to describe it, and if the children wanted to know more then they would be able to look it up on the internet afterwards.

"You know, this is the first time we've spent any real time together since you were…is _created_ the right word?"

Vision smiled. "I don't believe that there is a right or wrong word. My means of existence is rather extraordinary. But, yes. We have always been rather separate from one another, though I have been very glad and grateful that you have welcomed me into your household."

"Hey, of course. No need to thank me or anything."

"I understand that you did so because of Wanda, and I'm very thankful for that also. She has nothing but praise for you and Laura and the children. You were there for her in a time of great need, and I cannot demonstrate enough appreciation for the kindness you all have shown to her."

Mr Barton raised an arm to the back of his neck, as though he was rather uncomfortable. "Anyone would have done the same, I'm sure."

"But you have always sought to protect Wanda, from the time when her and her brother were still viewed with suspicion."

"I guess that's what being a dad will do. And I saw something in them that maybe the others didn't at the time, I don't know. I thought about Lila and Cooper, and if they were the ones in that situation. God forbid."

Vision bowed his head. He could understand well the impetus to protect humanity and to raise what was good and innocent above less favourable aspects which had gone beyond any fault of the individuals concerned. However, he was increasingly unsure that he would ever know what it meant to love and care from the perspective of a parent.

"I'm sorry that I didn't extend that understanding towards you," Clint continued, with regret evident in his voice. "I could say that I could only hold so much in my head at one time, but that's a lame excuse."

"I accept your apology, though I believe it is unwarranted. For my own part, I also wish to apologise for being hostile to you when your intentions were the right ones, and my own were horribly misguided, with the benefit of hindsight."

"No worries, I get it. Laura's dad wasn't exactly thrilled about me when we first started dating."

He could feel himself beginning to overheat, despite being in the open air. "At the time, Wanda and myself were not at that stage in our relationship, though I did hold a great affection for her. One which I had not fully comprehended."

"I figured," Clint smiled, "and I'll admit that it took me some time to get it. Wanda's a great kid, and the past year has been tough. I'm not going to say that it's been easy for us, she had times that were really bad. I asked Laura if there wasn't something more we could do for her, like send her somewhere that was better equipped. Looking back, it was stupid of me to even think that. We did what we could, despite being really scared at times. But, and I hope you'll believe me when I say this, I haven't ever seen her as happy as she is now."

He had no reason to disbelieve Mr Barton, especially not after the hours they had spent in one another's company. His words gave Vision a deeply contented feeling, almost tangible in the way it produced reactions in him.

"So I have a lot to thank _you_ for, Vision."

He was a little taken aback to register one of Clint's hands clapping him against the shoulder, although he managed a smile in response.

"Today has been hugely enjoyable. I hope that we can do it again sometime soon, perhaps with Cooper and Nathaniel also."

"Well, I think Nate's maybe a little too young just yet. And I don't know that Lila would take too kindly to being left at home."

"Oh," Vision stumbled, recognising that he had been at fault, "of course – I did not mean – "

"It's okay, bud. I won't tell." Mr Barton winked briefly and smiled. "That'd be great. It's been too long since I got out here, and it's been good to have someone who appreciates it just as much."

They carried the equipment back to the car between them, enjoying the air as it cooled down a little. Vision was most pleased by the way the day had gone, though he found his thoughts becoming occupied with Wanda once more. She would surely be pleased that things had gone so well, as she had already predicted they would.

"Hey, Vision?" Clint's voice sounded clear before they got into the car themselves.

"Yes, Clint?"

"I…well, I don't suppose it matters, but where did you get that shirt from?"

"Ah," he said, looking down involuntarily at the plaid shirt he was wearing, "I believe there might have been a mix-up with the laundry."

He noticed that Clint raised his eyebrows, but did not show any other signs of disapproval. Instead, his mouth quirked upwards.

"You keep it," he said, smile remaining intact, "it looks good on you."

* * *

Wanda's birthday fell on a Saturday this year, which was a fortunate occurrence, meaning that the whole Barton family could be there to celebrate with her for the entirety of the day. She was happy with this fact, and indeed appeared relaxed with the mention of the anniversary of her birth. It was a perennial matter of concern, given the absence of Pietro. He had recollections of the two previous birthdays prior to the events that had turned the universe upside down, one of which he had been lucky enough to spend a portion of time with her. There were tears, he recalled that. Yet there was also serenity, a trip to a natural history museum and a slice of cake (for Wanda, though he had been intrigued by the presentation, as well as the colour and texture of the frosting).

A week or so beforehand Laura had made the suggestion of a collective trip somewhere. _It doesn't have to be anywhere very far, or anything grand_, she was quick to say as an addendum. _It would just be nice to do something different. But of course, it's up to you, honey. _Her concluding statement was directed at Wanda, who smiled and nodded, and then affirmed that _yes, it would be nice_.

He had been glad of the advance notice of the plans, as it gave him adequate time to attempt something he had pondered for a little while, since 'dreaming' more vividly.

"_Have you given consideration to the fact that my natural appearance would appear rather alarming to those in the outside world?"_

_She tilted her head to the side by a fraction, a mannerism which she was likely unaware of consciously performing._

"_Not especially. Because it's really nobody's business."_

"_Wanda," he uttered her name quietly, using it to ground his formulating ideas. Her eyes fixed to his, and she wore an expression that appeared to be faintly exasperated. "My primary concern in any situation is that of your safety and wellbeing. I believe that, before we are unveiled once more as Avengers to the world at large, the best thing to do to avoid any furore would be for me to either not accompany you and the Bartons on the day trip…"_

"_Well, then I don't want to go at all."_

"…_or, I could employ my previous disguise."_

_She frowned at this possibility, he assumed because she thought it no longer possible._

"_My ability to phase has altered, but I am still able to do what I did before with regards to shifting density. It simply appears illusory to both of us. Assuming another, human-like form would be the next step, but not one which I imagine to be too strenuous."_

_With his hands steepled in accompaniment of thought, he moved towards where she sat upon the edge of the bed. _

"_I do not wish to spoil the plans for the day."_

_She shook her head before reaching a hand to his face. "Vizh, you never would. I don't really care what happens. I don't want you to get hurt or tired."_

"_That would not be a possibility." He found himself leaning into her palm, issuing a small kiss there. "I have been practicing, and could demonstrate, if it would put your mind at rest."_

"_I don't think I'm going to be able to stop you," she said, her solemn tone offset with a smile._

He was aware that she would find the results of his experiment surprising, but he was not adequately prepared for the extent of her joyous reaction. He gently dismissed her assertions that her eyes were deceiving her, and that in fact his true form still appeared to her as well as to himself. To demonstrate fully the effects of the matter and reality manipulation that he was able to employ, they went downstairs to greet the family, aside from Nathaniel who was already sleeping. As he expected they were taken aback, only fully reassured when hearing him speak. Both Cooper and Lila proclaimed the transformation to be 'really cool', Laura commented on the aesthetics of his appearance while smiling keenly at Wanda, and Clint simply stated that he had _"seen everything"_.

Nathaniel continued to be a worry until the following morning. Happily, he was the least fazed of the Bartons, reaching his small and inquisitive arms out to prod at the pale skin and pulling with some force upon the fair hair, and finding the situation very amusing indeed.

Thanks to the success of the experiment, he was able to accompany Wanda and the family on the planned day-trip on her birthday. They went to a farmer's market, which also had the fortune to be located nearby a medium-sized travelling fairground. The children took particular enjoyment in visiting the latter, as did Wanda. They rode the ferris wheel and carousel, and both Clint and Vision tried their luck at winning a prize on the many stalls. Vision emerged victorious and gave Wanda the opportunity to select a stuffed animal of her choosing, with Laura jokingly chastising Clint for his failure. His response was that he was allowed a day off every once in a while.

On returning home, Laura presented Wanda with the cake that she had baked the day before, along with assistance from Vision, the presence of which they had both managed to keep a secret from Wanda. Music flowed from the record player and the sun continued to shine in to the house until shortly before the time of its setting.

When the sky turned dark the two of them went outside, Wanda leading the way and sitting herself down in a spot that was sheltered by surrounding long-grass. Vision followed suit, having returned completely to his natural form. He was glad and very happy to feel Wanda leaning her back against him, her head resting upon his chest as she sat and cast her eyes up to the stars above.

No flying amongst them tonight, yet there was something just as beautiful in watching from a distance.

"Happy birthday," he said to her, not for the first time that day.

He felt her smile against his chest. She sought out his hand with hers, linking their fingers together as they both looked upwards.

Several constellations could be observed, he traced the patterns of at least four clearly and knew that Wanda would be doing the same and thinking of Pietro.

After a little while, he heard her say "Z Dnem Narodzhennya, brat. Spodivayusya, vam spodobayetʹsya denʹ."

"I am sure that he is," he said after a few moments had passed, holding her a little tighter at the waist.

She tipped her head back so that she was looking at him upside down, and smiled.

It was a beautiful and calm night, with the stars seeming to shine brighter than they usually would. It would have been tempting to stay for hours, but practicality deemed it necessary to return indoors.

"Thank you," she whispered to him before they entered the house once more, craning on her toes to issue a kiss to his cheek.

"You are welcome," he responded, though he did not deem it necessary. "I am glad that you have had a good day."

Her smile beamed towards him, as though it had been touched by the silver starlight.

"Every day is good with you, kokhanyy."

"As mine are with you."

His palm landed instinctively on the small of her back, his head dipping down to meet with her lips.

The magic that lay there was indefinable, indescribable.

"Here's to many more," she said, smiling all the more.

* * *

Natasha's call came twelve days after Wanda's birthday. The new compound was fully operational, Ms Potts had been consulted and a detailed plan laid out; there were no justifiable reasons to delay.

He felt a combination of emotions on being informed. An eagerness to resume the duties that his very being was formulated for. Gratification that they would be reunited with their new teammates and that all would be working towards the same goal. However, the various positives were tempered with feelings of regret and reluctance to leave the deeply contented domestic situation they had settled into, quite effortlessly, within the past months.

They had been given a short amount of time to prepare before leaving, Vision watching intently as Wanda packed away her possessions. She smiled fondly at the oversized plush hippopotamus, the prize that he had won for her at the fairground.

"I don't think that this is going to fit."

"The dimensions make it quite impossible."

Her eyes were soft, demonstrating apology. "Would you mind if I gave it to Nate?"

"I think that is an excellent idea," he smiled in response.

Nathaniel was very pleased with the stuffed animal. He also did not appear to comprehend the impending departure, though Vision made an attempt to explain in simplified terms which a toddler could grasp.

"Honey, I'm not sure he's getting it," Laura interjected, scooping a giggling Nathaniel out of Wanda's arms.

"Perhaps it is for the best," he mused, taking hold of one of Nathaniel's small hands as it waved in the air towards him.

"We'll call every day," Wanda promised, smiling at Lila and Cooper in turn, "whatever time works for you guys. The training schedule does allow for some breaks."

"It better had, else you can tell Romanoff that she has me to answer to."

Clint's stern expression swiftly cracked into a grin. He tapped a hand against Wanda's shoulder, several seconds passing before he pulled her forward into an embrace.

Wanda's voice came out as a near-whisper. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done. Giving me a place to go, and for letting us stay."

"I also wish to extend my gratitude for your hospitality," Vision added once Wanda had concluded.

Clint shook his head in a manner of modest acceptance as opposed to dismissal. "It's been great having you both as part of the family."

"And you still are," Laura interjected, bouncing Nathaniel in her arms, "don't think you can get away that easily."

"I know that Nat's going to take good care of you both," Clint said, "but know that you'll always have a home here, whenever you need it."

It was a statement that held great sincerity, and one which caused Wanda to begin to cry. Vision immediately put his arm around her and she leant into him while Laura, too, sniffled.

"Hey, come on, this isn't fair," Clint said, his voice wavering slightly, "I have to drive you guys to the station."

"It's fine, I'm fine." Wanda pulled back a short distance, though Vision's hand remained on the small of her back. "I promise." She smiled at the Bartons, then up towards Vision, lingering for a few seconds. "We'd better get going."

Natasha had offered the use of one of the new quinjets to escort them to New York, but they had both expressed a wish to take a more commonplace, if greater time-consuming, method of transport, one of the reasons being that it was likely the last time they would be able to behave as any other couple would before being properly sworn in as Avengers. The coach was due to depart at twenty three minutes past noon and would take several hours to reach the city. Clint saw them safely to the station and onboard, waving them off as the coach set its wheels in motion.

Vision adopted his human form for the journey, visible to all eyes except Wanda's. They occupied themselves by reading, playing appropriate games and watching the landscape shift outside of the window that framed their view, Wanda's head resting against Vision's shoulder. It was lost on neither of them that this was the first time they had taken such a trip together, with Vision always travelling to and from Wanda separately during their two years of secret rendezvous. He was able to recall more and more about those instances, with only the odd occasion blurred or largely absent from his memory.

As such, there was a great deal of joy to be found in the triviality, as well as a sense of fulfillment that they were able to bring their own conclusion to that shared chapter in their lives, albeit significantly belatedly.

They spoke of the new compound and what they imagined it might be like. Natasha had sent an address in code, but aside from the factual, no other details had been forthcoming. It would all come as a pleasant surprise; he could not imagine anything being distasteful, certainly not impractical.

Wanda gazed upwards at him, a strip of late afternoon sun falling upon her face.

"Do you think we'll have a house of our own one day?"

The smile that formed upon his lips was instinctive on hearing her question. The notion was something he had been pondering, to varying degrees of intensity, of late.

"I very much hope we are afforded the opportunity," was his reply, erring on the side of caution but coupled with great optimism, which he believed to be the best outlook in the circumstances.

Wanda's answering smile affirmed that it was so.

"I don't suppose there are any rules against it, though maybe Nat will say different."

He found himself mesmerised by the vivid green of her irises, the sunlight intensifying the shade.

"Before everything, I had –" she uttered a short laugh at what she was about to say " – visions of what it might be like. I could picture the house really clearly. _Our_ house. It was like something out of an old film or TV show, I'm not really sure why. But it was pretty. And it felt like home."

Simply hearing her recount her own daydreams made him happy and peaceful. He raked his fingers slowly through her hair, feeling a strong sense of familiarity at the action. Serenity.

"I suspect this will sound _corny_," he began, watching her face keenly, "but I can only think that _home_ to me is wherever you are."

Another soft laugh left her lips, the palm of her hand reaching to skim his cheek.

"That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard, Vizh. And I feel the same way."

As she scrabbled up to right herself upon her seat he also dipped his head down to place a kiss upon her forehead.

Travelling not too further on the sun took a lower position in the sky, burnishing an amber glow.

One day.

It did not seem to be too far a stretch of the imagination, or otherwise an unattainable twist in reality.

* * *

_He had arrived in Edinburgh ahead of schedule by several hours. Refraining from informing Wanda so as not to compromise her position, he decided first to check into the hotel which he had made a pre-planned reservation for on behalf of them both._

_He wasn't yet used to being called by the name that was written on the various documents that were in his possession, which he could take out of the bag that he carried with him – predominately to keep up appearances – and hold in his hands to affirm that this identity was one which was recognised by the world at large. He smiled at the receptionist a fraction too late, though she did not appear to notice, handing over the key cards to the room with further pleasantries._

"_I hope you enjoy your stay, Mr Shade. Reception is open twenty four hours of the day, so if there's anything you need please don't hesitate to give us a call."_

"_Thank you," he returned, the smile now more settled upon his face. _

"_Is it your first time in Edinburgh?"_

"_Yes. We're looking forward to seeing the city…that is, my girlfriend and I. She's been held up at a conference, but is due to arrive soon."_

_The receptionist was young – early to mid-twenties, around Wanda's age if he were to attempt to accurately predict – with an open, friendly demeanour._

"_I'm sure you'll have a lovely time. You have to go to the castle, obviously, but I'd recommend Dr Neil's Garden for somewhere a bit more undiscovered. It's especially lovely this time of year."_

"_I'll certainly make a note of that. Thank you."_

_Rather than going up to the room, he decided to take a walk and get his bearings. He would rather the suite remain a surprise which he and Wanda could discover together, and he was travelling light so he would not find exploring cumbersome. The city was beautiful – quite steep in many places but very picturesque, with cobbled streets and buildings that stretched to the sky but not in the characterless manner that was often to be found in New York. Streets wound their ways into open spaces and they were busy with tourists and locals alike, but also relatively clear. The air felt truly fresh as he breathed it in, pausing to fully appreciate the landscape around him, being fairly certain that Wanda would find it just as charming._

_He ended up in Victoria Street, the bright colours of the various shops and businesses beacons against the overcast afternoon. He perused the windows briefly, giving each a considered glance as was only polite to do so. One window arrested his attention for longer than a minute; indeed, he found himself peering in at the shining display for some time. Once again, as had become customary, his gathering thoughts centered on a focal point, growing ever larger in his mind as the days passed._

_Consuming him._

_What once seemed highly implausible – impossible even, given the complexities of his existence – was becoming sufficiently more attainable. His natural tendency towards logic remained undiminished, but he had long known that order and chaos were not opposites, and the longer that this way of life continued he found himself veering closer to the edges, testing the possibilities. Mentally, in thorough detail. Road signs were beginning to present themselves with increased frequency, warning that there was not much further to be traversed, that a way must be chosen._

_The opposing direction was unthinkable. The more he considered it, the more he knew it would cause considerable sorrow and unbearable pain for them both. It may have appeared to be the way to safety on outward appearances, compatible with all of his principles and natural desires._

_He had also come to understand, better than most, how deceptive appearances could be._

_Wanda had spoken about it too. Early in the morning, half-asleep, arms braced around him. In the full force of daylight, stopping to watch the movement of the sky above as they held hands. Wanting. Wishing. Dreaming._

"_I want to stay."_

_In one place. _

_With you._

_Her face, lit with a smile, which was covered by shadow in the next moment, when she landed back in reality. Letting out a sigh and a swish of her hair, looking back at him with a resigned gaze and a heavier heart._

_They could stay. Here, in Edinburgh, or the other side of the world. A minimal ceremony would be enough to make it so. Nobody could say otherwise or tear apart bonds once they had been put in place. He could not restrain a smile at the thought of it, the dream becoming a reality. He would stay in his disguise and ensure that Wanda, even if to the world she would be known by another name, remained safe, forever. _

_He sensed that he had time before he needed to be at the train station, and the euphoric thoughts resident in his head – namely of Wanda's astonishment and joy in the following moments once he had made his intentions clear – ensured that the decision was made for him._

_The sound of a bell rang out above him when he entered the door of the jewellers._

* * *

**A/N: ****Ukrainian (Sokovian) to English translation:**

**_Z Dnem Narodzhennya, brat =_ Happy birthday, brother**

**_Spodivayusya, vam spodobayetʹsya denʹ =_ hope you enjoy the day**

_**kokhanyy **_**= beloved**


End file.
